


For Fuck's Sake!

by QueenMissFit



Series: Modern Girl In... With A Stupid Name [2]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Merle Dixon Lives, Modern!Reader - Freeform, Multi, Sophia Peletier Lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-03-24 15:07:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 45,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13813728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenMissFit/pseuds/QueenMissFit
Summary: Y/N L/N has had a rough day.First she was late, then it began to rain and she was on the verge of getting sick and now she's running for her life.For fuck's sake, why is this her life?(Similar style to You're Kidding Right?)





	1. Prologue

"FUCK!" I screeched, tripping over the doorstep, face-planting into my home, my knee 

As I stumbled up and through the door, slamming it behind me and making sure it's locked, then toss my backpack onto the floor near the sofa which I promptly slump into, I groan.

_This day could not get any worse..._

_First, I had been late._

_Second, it had begun to rain and I hadn't brought an umbrella and my coat decided to rip so I was soaked._

_Third, if I haven't pissed myself, the rain has touched my pussy more than anyone except maybe a doctor._

_Fourth, I think I've scraped my knee because ow..._

Muttering to myself about all the ways my life has become shit today and it's probably someone's fault or mine for not petting that cat, I leant my head back against the sofa 

_Sometimes, I wish I were somewhere else entirely. Somewhere where I wouldn't have to give a shit who shagged which Kardashian or who had the weirdest dress at an awards show most people couldn't afford to buy a ticket to._

_Too bad there's nowhere like that except Amishland and I'm not willing to give up my wi-fi..._

_Now what shall I watch?_

Before I can make any decisions, my TV turns on without me touching anything; the Walking Dead theme screeching from the TV, ripping into my mind making me slap my hands over my ears.

_Jesus, what did I sit on? The remote with the same controls as a freakish vibrator?_

The Walking Dead theme begins to glitch, turning into a wail before what feels like a knife, digging between the layers of my skin and beginning to peel, rips into me and from behind my lungs I feel the pressure that squeezes so hard I feel myself fading away as my eyes shut.

* * *

"Where am I?"

When I opened my eyes, I was standing in a hospital. Only this was the sort of hospital where stupid teenagers roamed before they were ripped into by some fucking ghost or whatever. Paper was strewn everywhere and _oh, would you look at that, there's a smear of blood on the wall like someone's vag has sprung a leak on their period._

_If this is Outlast I swear to God... Not even in the mood to fuck any psychopaths today..._

Taking a step forward I tripped on something trapped around my leg and once again my knee paid the price for my lack of grace.

Untangling my leg, I slipped my bag off my leg and onto my shoulders, laying against my back, and I slowly make my way through the place, the light flickering making me want to shit myself even more.

I apparently wasn't paying enough attention as my leg slammed into a bed in the hallway. _So why doesn't it hurt as bad as hitting my knee on the floor?_

**CRASH**

"Nurse, help!" a man choked out from behind the door with the bed in front of it. "Nurse, help!"

Moving the bed out of the way, I opened the door to reveal a man in a hospital gown shaking in the fetal position on the floor, tubes in his arm connecting him to a machine.

Falling to his side, I can barely speak for the relief of finding another person in this shit-hole that's not an axe-murderer or a randy teen who basically advertises all of their holes for sale as well  so I wordlessly pull him free of the tubes, trying to be gentle when he winces shakily.

"Easy does it, easy does it," I mutter as I help him up

"W-Water," he rasps.

Supporting him with an arm around his back, his left arm over my shoulders, I walk him to the joined room which I assume is the bathroom and opened the door.

At the sight of the sink he launched himself off of me, collapsing against the sink. Turning on the tap, he began to swallow mouthfuls of liquid.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched the open door, fearing for my life and now the life of my 'patient'.

_For fuck's sake, why is this my life?_


	2. Fake It 'Til You Make It (Chapter 1)

After drinking his fill, the man stumbled past me and tripped on nothing, falling against me once more so I began to support him once again.

_This must be what it's like to be a healer in any video game._

We stumbled into the hallway together, greeted by the eerie silence, the probably safest place to be now being left behind us.

Once again, rugged and grimy launched himself off of me as he hurried over to a desk.

When the phone didn't make a sound when he lifted it, 

Lifting the match over the desk, he barely illuminated the paperwork and standard office equipment on it. The only thing worth grabbing was the stethoscope so I did.

_It's not stealing if it doesn't belong to anyone, right?_

Swinging my bag off of my shoulder, I unzipped it and crammed the stethoscope inside before re-zipping it and swinging it back on. When I looked up to find Rick had wandered down the corridor and was staring into the depths of another corridor through the glass, the creepy flickering light making sure we couldn't avoid the horror scene that laid before us.

"Sir?" I asked coming up to his side.

"Nurse... what's going on?" He continued to stare.

After looking into the corridor, I couldn't answer him.

_There's a dead nurse_

Instead I began to steer him away from the door, around the corner towards another flickering light past bullet holes in the walls, dangling electric cables and stray bits of glass on the floor.

_'The Walking Dead'? Why the fuck isn't it just called 'Lights Flicker With Creepy Effects? No one's walking except us!_

At the end of the corridor was another set of double doors but without windows and in what I hope is just ketchup is written 'DON'T DEAD OPEN INSIDE.'  _...Oh..._  'DON'T OPEN DEAD INSIDE' above the door handles with a large piece of wood between them and a padlock keeping them closed.

As we approached, something inside pressed against the doors, ramming into them.

Rick and I flinched as a long-nailed hand came creeping between the doors like the sort of hand you want no where near your underwear but if you go into certain places it will.

_Oh look, it's part of a matching pair._

Rick balked, knocking into me as he ran past and into the door that swung with the weight of his body.

"Sir? Sir!" I called after him as he pressed the button for the lift rapidly.

When it didn't work he launched himself down the corridor to the next door and threw himself into it, collapsing against the railings when I caught up to him.

I slammed the door behind us before I went over to the man's side again as he lit another match and held it out before him, revealing the stairs.

Taking his arm in mine, we slowly made our way down until the man hit what seemed like another wall until he pressed against it and revealed the blinding light of day.

Then again, I'd rather be nose-blind right now.

As I guided the man down another set of stairs, worried about all of the diseases you could get from cuts in your feet, we were introduced to a whole new level of FUCK YOU by the Universe; dead bodies lined up in bags with flies hovering around them.

This guy seemed to be really up for walking through the bodies despite being a bit shaky as he just went through whilst I hesitated behind.

_For fuck's sake, I just had to get stuck with the white male protagonist, didn't I?_

I was so glad to be out of there and would have followed the road like a normal human being but scruffy decided he would run up the hill in his hospital gown that was on backwards and spared me the view of a man who probably hadn't had his ass wiped for weeks.

After following him, my shoe slipping in the mud and splashing my ankles as we went, we reached the top of the hill and saw a black helicopter amongst more carnage.

_Well this fucking horrible. If this because I didn't hold that door for that cunt I'm going to fucking sue Hell when I get down there._

* * *

Finally, in silence, we reached a small park with a single red bike on the ground. When he reaches it, wobbily pulling it up, he looks at me in question.

"There's only one bike, sir. You can have it," I offer.

There is no Jorah-Jon season 7 exchange where he lets me have it. The fucker just gets on the bike. Before he can start peddling away, leaving me to jog behind him, something growls at him from the floor, sending him almost toppling off the bike.

It's a half dead thing. A fucking zombie.

"FUCK THAT!" I heave the man up on his bike, wait for him to get started and then jog after him, not willing to look back at the fucking zombie.

_I really should have gone to the gym..._

* * *

When Rick stopped, allowing me to breathe, he dropped the bike on the curb and ran up the steps into the house and started shouting once he slammed the door open.

 _"_ CARL! LORI!"

As he shrieks, wails and has a meltdown over his presumable family, I walked in and around the house. After slinging my bag off of my shoulder, i begin to pick and choose from what's left and strewn around.

_Nice flannel shirt... Will have that._

_Socks, fab._

_Underwear? Is it clean?... I'll just grab some boxers, some of these are little more than strings._

_Tins of food? Grab some of those..._

As I finished my looting, I swung my bag back on, heavier than before but not by too much, to see the sobbing man step out of the house and sit on the steps that lead into the street.

He seemed to spot something in the street that I couldn't see, as I was staying hidden by the front door, and he raised his left arm in greeting in 

A black boy approached the man from his right and I couldn't bring myself to shout out even when he hit him with the shovel.

"DADDY! DADDY!"

"Nurse... Carl... I found you," he croaked out.

"DADDY I GOT THIS SONOVABITCH! I'MMA SMACK HIM DEAD!"

A man as dark as the boy ran up after shooting something in the street.

I could barely hear anything they said.

"WAIT!" I finally decided to run out realising this guy could get shot. "HOLD YOUR FIRE!"

The patient was laid on the ground, blood gushing from his nose, passed out with the man and his son leaning over him with a gun pointed.

_Oh fuck now the gun's pointed at me._

I froze before raising my hands. "My name's Y/N L/N. He was a patient at the hospital. Please!"

"You a nurse or somethin'?" The man asked.

"Or something," I replied.

"Alright. You're coming with us. Gotta help us lift him though," the man stated, still aiming the gun. "I'm Morgan this is my son Duane."

"Nice to meet you?" I bent down, beginning to lift the patient by his shoulders.

* * *

We had brought Rick to a house down the road, reaching it as the sun was beginning to go down, with me basically carrying the most weight. Placing him on a bed, Morgan had tied him up by the wrists.

He had held a gun to my head as he told me to pull on the bindings to check them for the passed out guy so as I did, I checked his hospital wrist band.

_Grimes, Rick._

"What's your patient's name then?" Morgan asked.

"Rick. Rick Grimes," I answered, tearing my gaze from the band long enough to yank on the bindings and meet Morgan's gaze just as Duane entered the room with a bundle he placed down on the dresser next to the bed, away from the door.

A bowl of water was placed on the dresser along with more bandages and a cloth.

"Get to it. The quicker you clean it, less likely he's going to turn into one of them and rip your face off."

* * *

Rick woke just as I, now completely finished and using my own anti-bacterial hand soap, moved away to wash my hands, only placing them in the water when I heard him groan. On the outskirts of my vision I could see Duane grip tighter onto the baseball bat.

_Ah yes because even a tied up zombie can kill a little boy._

Morgan chose to speak up first, "You're luck your nurse was here to change that bandage for you. Pretty rank. What was it... the wound?"

"Gun shot," Rick answered.

"Gun shot?" Morgan echoed, stepping forwards from where he had stood at the foot of the bed, clutching the wood there as he asked. "What else? Anything?"

"Gun shot ain't enough?"

"Look," Morgan began sternly, marching over to Rick's side, looming over him. "I ask and you answer. That's common courtesy, right? Have. You. Been. Bit?"

"Bit?"

"Chewed? Maybe scratched? Anything like that?" Rick shook his head in response. Morgan turned to me just as I began to dry my hands. "Nurse?"

"Nothing from what I could see. Just the initial bullet wound and exit," I replied. "No other wounds or illnesses either. No real fever, no cold, no build up under the sinuses. He could have AIDS or HIV so don't go sharing spit."

Morgan nodded thoughtfully before pulling out a knife from his back pocket and pointing it at Rick's face who turned away from the sharp blade. "Take a look at that. Look how  _sharp_  it is. Try anything, and I will kill you with it and don't you think I won't." After threatening him, he slit the bindings from his wrists and ankles. "Come out when you're able." Morgan walked away, heading over to his son, who with a quiet command, followed him out of the room leaving me alone.

Rick clutched onto his wrists, curling into his side.

Silently I picked up a blanket from the floor that looked clean enough for it's grey-ish colour and gave it to Rick. "Come on, you must be starving."

I left the room after that to give him a few minutes on his own too quick to have a wank or do anything unless he was one of my exes.

In the main room, Duane and Morgan stood around a table. Probably cooking something to eat.

"Thank you... for taking us in even though you hit him with a shovel and threatened me with gun," I stated, standing in the doorway before offering, "Is there anything I can help with?"

"If your hands are clean you can help my son check the curtains. Duane, you know what to do."

"Yes sir," Duane replied before heading over to the curtains with me close behind.

Once we reached the curtains in another room, Duane began to instruct me.

* * *

After checking all of them, tucking the curtains into cracks like I've tucked my ass into jeans, we returned to the table where Morgan informed us it was almost time to eat as Rick staggered into the room. He stopped and veered off into the large front room next door, his blanket thrown around his shoulders.

"This place... Fred and Cindy Drake's."

"Never met 'em," Morgan stated, stepping into the room through the dining room whilst Duane and I sat down at the table.

"I've been here. This was their place-"

"Not anymore," I stated. "By the looks of things Fred either left Cindy for Daphne and Cindy went to go live with her mother or they disappeared a  _long_  time ago."

"Don't do that," Morgan ordered Rick because apparently curtains haven't been put up for a reason. "They'll see the light. There's more of them out there than usual. I never should have fired that gun today." Morgan returned to the table with a sigh, lifting the cover off of the flame before blowing it out. "Sound draws them in from all over the street. Stupid, using a gun," he muttered the last part. "It all happened so fast. I didn't think." Finally he sat down.

"You shot that man today," Rick accused standing in the doorway.

I rolled my eyes.

"Man?-" Morgan began.

"Weren't no man!" Duane finished.

Morgan turned towards his son and berated, "The hell was that out your mouth just now?"

"It  _wasn't_ a man," Duane corrected himself.

"You shot him in the street out front. A man-"

"Should have gone to Specsavers," I mutter.

"Friend, you may need glasses because that was a walker," Morgan stated. He gestured with a jerk of his head to the table as he took the saucepan off the table, stirring it with a spoon and beginning to dish up. "Sit down before you fall down. Here," he offered as he served Rick first.

Finally Rick sat down in the chair opposite Duane.

Before he could eat, as Morgan served up Duane, himself and I, Duane protested. " _Daddy,_ blessing."

A fond smile was all Morgan could give his son.

I spoke up to break any awkward silence. "Morgan, would you do the honours?"

For some fucking reason we all had to hold hands so I held Rick's in my right and Duane's in my left as if we were all going to sing Kumbaya and braid each others pubes with glitter.

"Lord, we thank thee for this food and thy blessings. We ask you to watch over us in these  _crazy_ days. Amen."

"Amen," Duane and I repeated.

Finally we were allowed to eat and for the first time since I got here, I felt almost at ease except for the undead at our doorstep.

_That's not allowed to last long though, is it?_

"Hey mister," Morgan spoke up halfway through the meal. "Do you even know what's going on out there?"

Truthfully, Rick answered, "I woke up today... in the hospital to be saved by a nurse. I came home and that's all I know."

With as much tact as me walking home completely fucked up and announcing I killed a man at my auntie Brenda's funeral whilst waving my tits around that have symbols of Satan on them to the disgust of whatever religious people there are that aren't as metal as I am, Morgan asked, "But you know about the dead people, right?"

"Yeah... I saw a lot of that. Out on the loading trucks-"

"No, not that they put down. The ones they didn't. The walkers. Like the one I shot today," Morgan informed him. "'Cause they will try to rip into you, try anything they can to rip into your flesh. My guess is this is the first you're hearing of them then. I know how it must sound."

After a long moment's pause, Rick asked, "They're out there now? In the street?"

"Yeah," Morgan answered. "They got more active after dark sometimes. Maybe it's just me firin' that gun today but we'll be fine as long as we stay quiet, they'll wander off by morning. But there's one thing I do know... Don't you get bit."

"The bandage," I think out loud.

"That's what we were afraid," Duane said.

"Bites kill you," Morgan informs Rick. "The fever burns you out but then after a while, you come back."

We fell into silence again and with one final mouthful, I had finished my plate. With a silent thank you mouthed at Morgan, I settled into my seat and waited for the conversation to pick back up again.

Unlike with Auntie Brenda who may just be a figment of my imagination, someone spoke up once more instead of calling an ambulance because someone had had a heart attack at the funeral. "I've seen it happen," Duane stated.

A comforting hand is placed on his arm by his father and the meal resumes once more in silence.

* * *

Later, when Duane had gone to the makeshift bed on the floor with his father at his side, Rick and I sat propped up against the sofa on a piece of sofa covered with a thin blanket that would become our bed for the night as no one wanted to sleep in the eerily un-taken bed upstairs in silence, waiting for morning to come.

Before morning came, a car alarm went off and Duane jolted out of bed.

"It's okay, it's okay Daddy's here," Morgan soothed his son. "It's nothin'. One of them must've bumped a car..."

"You sure?" Rick asked as he staggered to stand up, clutching his blanket around him.

"Happened once before. Went on for a few minutes." Morgan stood as well before he ordered, "Get the light Duane."

We were submerged into darkness and I decided I didn't want to see how many of them there were as the men approached the window and peeled back a curtain to peer into the night.

"It's the blue one down the street. Same one as last time," Morgan stated. "I think we'll be ok."

"That noise... Will it bring more of them?" Rick asked.

"Nothing we can do about it now. Just have to wait 'em out 'til morning."

I barely realised Duane had got up, unable to see him in the darkness or able to hear his footsteps over the car alarm until he choked on a breath by the window. "She's here."

"Don't look. Get away from the window," his father ordered. "I said go! Come on!"

With a sob, Duane launched himself over into his bed, his father hurrying behind him.

"Come on, quiet." His father attempted to soothe the boy who was currently sobbing his heart out.

I stood up, bringing my bag with me and sat on the other side of the boy without touching him.

I picked my bag up from where I had laid it against my side so it wasn't out of reach and dug through it until I found what I was looking for.

Taking my phone, turning it on and selecting an age appropriate song, and headphones out, I passed them to Morgan. "Here."

Meanwhile Rick had stumbled over to the door and was peering out into the street once more.

"Cry into the pillow," Morgan offered, placing a pillow under his son's head on his chest so he could cradle him. He placed the headphones on his son's ears before he continued to stroke his son's back. With a silent 'thank you' given, I left them to return to my 'bed'.

Turning to look at Rick who was still by the door I hissed. "Get away from the door."

He didn't listen. _Fucking typical._

Only when the doorknob turned did he return to the 'bed' we had been sat on before with his eyes locked onto the turning doorknob.

In the silence that followed his return, Duane's sobs slowly fading, Morgan began hesitantly, "She, uh... She died in the other room, on that bed..."  _Called it!_ "Nothin' I can do about it here... That fever,  _man..._  Her skin gave off heat like a furnace. Should have put her down, I should have put her down, I know that, but..." He trailed off,  tears reflecting in the candlelight. "You know what... I just didn't have it in me... She's the mother of my child." Once he trailed off, I turned away to give him his privacy to sob.

I stared at that door for the entire night it seemed until I fell asleep.


	3. Old Spice (Chapter 2)

The next morning I woke up to Rick shaking me away and so, without being able to brush my teeth or eat anything, I was made to get up and follow Rick outside the front door.

"Are we sure… they're dead? You have to ask, just one more time."

"They're dead. Except for something in the brain. That's why it's gotta be the head."

One of the zombies was laid against the white picket fence post and slowly began to get up. As Rick approached it, his dumb plastic guard over his face, it charged towards him. Rick wasn't having any of it and with several whacks to the head, the thing fell to the ground.

Rick almost dropped his bat as he recoiled and dry-heaved. If he had regular heaved he wouldn't have been able to see out of his mask.

"You alright?" Morgan asked.

"Need a moment," Rick replied and then took his headgear off to regular heave.

* * *

Apparently there was no need to take all that shit from Rick's house as we came back here today, entering through the still open white door and dropping his headgear off at the door, dragging his bat along the ground as he stated, "They're alive. My wife and son. At least they were when they left."

"How can you know? By the look of this place…" Morgan trailed off as he looked around.

I went over to the mantelpiece in the dining room, stroking a finger over it. "There's no dust! Like none at all! Or any blood!"

"I found some empty drawers in the bedroom. They packed some clothes. Not a lot. But enough to travel."

"Nah, Rick's right. It'd be too convenient for  _his_  family to be dead, wouldn't it?"

I was ignored.

"You know," Morgan began, "Anybody could've broken in here and stolen clothes, right?"

"You see the framed pictures on the walls?" Rick pointed out the pristine white walls. "Neither do I. Some random thief took those too, you think? My photo albums, family pictures, all gone."

With a sob, Morgan sank into a chair that I pulled out for him. As he cradled his face in his hands I turned to Duane. "Go upstairs. There's probably some clothes that fit you."

He complied just as his father wiped his face and began to laugh. "Photo albums... My wife... Same thing. Here I am, packing survival gear, she's grabbing photo albums..."

"They're in Atlanta, I'll bet," Duane spoke up, leaning his head down the stairs to speak to us.

"That's right," his father confirmed.

"Why there?" I asked, not looting today.

"Refugee settle. Huge, when they said it, before the broadcast stopped. Military protection, food, shelter… They told people to go there. Said to be safest," Morgan answered.

"Any disease places? An outbreak like this must have some kind of control poorly organised, right?"

"Center for Disease Control," Morgan answered. "Said they were working on how to solve this thing."

I had barely registered that Rick had left until he came back dangling a set of keys before us.

* * *

_I'm in a police station. I'm in a police station after stealing. I'm in a police station after stealing and identity theft and I haven't been arrested yet._

"This place has got it's own propane system," Rick stated as he lifted his hand under the water. "Pilot's still on."

"Hot water and propane? I'm in!"

"But-" Rick began to protest.

"Like hell am I going on my own. Nah, you guys can grow up get on with it or keep your eyes closed," I stepped into the shower stall to the far right of the four and began to slip my shoes off. "I've got legs to shave and propane to enjoy."

* * *

After getting to shave all the hair I wanted to, never know when I would get my next chance, I had changed into a towel to dry off in and once dry changed back into the clothes I had been wearing and headed off in search of the boys.

Wasn't hard to find them since they decided to go to the only room with guns that was connected to the men's locker room.

"A lot of it's gone missing," Rick commented.

"No shit..." I corrected myself under Morgan's glare, "...take mushrooms are in there. Guess there's no foraging here." Spotting some cabinets I moved over and began to go through them, pulling out things and placing them in my bag or in a duffel bag Rick kicked over to me.

Duane picked up a small gun. "Dad, can I learn to shoot? I'm old enough."

"Hell yes you're going to learn!" Morgan grabbed his son by his shoulder, hugging him close. "We gotta do it carefully, teach you to respect the weapon."

"That's right. It's not a toy. You pull the trigger, you have to mean it. Always remember that, Duane."

"Yes, sir," Duane replied. He took the gun his father offered him willingly.

Rick took a gun off the wall with a scope on it and passed it to Morgan. "Here, go on. It's nothing fancy. Scope's accurate."

I rolled my eyes.

_Someone's over-compensating._

* * *

Looting and loading completed, my bag was a bit heavier but Rick's was worse filled with half of the guns and most of the ammo whilst I had simply picked up medical supplies and other random things on our way outside.

As we walked up the steps into the car park, Rick stated, "Conserve your ammo. Goes faster than you think. 'specially at target practise."

Once we reached the top of the stairs, Morgan passed his bag to his son and ordered, "Take this to the car."

Before Duane left he fished my phone out of his pocket and attempted to give it to me.

"Keep it. You may need it."

After thanking me, he scurried away to Morgan's truck to do as his father had asked.

When the kid was by the car, loading it up, Rick asked, "You sure you won't come along?"

"A few more days… By the end, Duane will know how to shoot and I won't be so rusty."

From the side of my bag I unhooked one of the walkie talkies and gave it to Morgan, giving the other to Rick before explaining, "So we can stay in touch."

Rick turned the device over in his hands before stating, "I'll turn mine on, a few minutes every day at dawn. You get up there, that's how you'll find us."

"You think they're here?" Morgan asked.

"Can't afford not to. Not anymore," Rick replied.

Morgan almost turned to go. Instead he said to Rick, "Look, just one thing. They may not seem like much one at a time… but in a group all round up and hungry… May you watch your asses and let's hope your nurse doesn't have to patch up yours too often."

"You too."

"You a good man, Rick. I hope you'll find your wife and son," he stated before turning to me. "I hope you survive all this."

"Live long and prosper," I replied.

"Be seeing you, Duane," Rick called over to the young boy.

"Take care of your old man!"

"Yes, sir. Yes, ma'am."

As Morgan started to leave he stilled. Slowly, he pivoted until he gazed at the chain link fence and a zombie in a police uniform clawing at it.

"...Leon Basset," Rick stated as he walked towards it. "Didn't think much of him. Careless and dumb, but..." Rick drew his pistol and held the metal in his hand. "Can't leave him like this."

"You know they'll hear the shot," Morgan warned.

"Let's not be here when they show up."

Morgan gave us one final look before hurrying over to the car. "Let's go, son. Come on!"

As Rick approaches Leon, Duane and Morgan slid into their vehicle. Once they were safely inside, I turned to watch Rick raise the pistol to Leon's forehead before shooting him through the fence.

With a grim look on his face, Rick threw me the car keys which I dropped to the floor then picked up. After unlocking the only other vehicle, I threw my bag in the back seat and got in the passenger seat.

Rick got in after me, sliding his stuff in the back before sliding himself into the driver's seat.

As he started the engine I asked, "Now, where to?"

* * *

Rick picked up his radio half-way down the road and started speaking; "Broadcasting on emergency channel. We'll be approaching Atlanta on Highway 85. Anybody reads, please respond. Hello. Hello. Can anybody hear my voice? Anybody out there? Anybody hears me, please respond. Hello, can you hear my voice?"

The only response he received was the crackle of white noise as no voices came through.

In an attempt to lighten the mood I offered, "I'll try next. Maybe they just hate your voice?"

He didn't smile. Or grimace. Or smirk. Or respond.

I slunk into my seat wishing I had picked up a book.

* * *

When we stopped, it was on the side of a road and before we got out, Rick pulled his mirror down to reveal a photograph of him and his wife with their son, then folding it and placing it into his front pocket on his shirt.

Clambering out of the car, he set forth on his journey whilst I walked behind him like a normal person.

* * *

For some fucking reason, Rick decided that in order to ask for gas he need to shout at the farm house we approached.

"Stop shouting, do you want to... wake the dead?" Awkwardly, I attempted to backtrack, "That was... in poor taste..." I trailed off when I stood next to Rick who had pressed himself against a window.

Inside the body of a woman laid on the floor at her husband's feet, both with bullets in their skulls and flies floating around them. On the wall was sprawled 'GOD FORGIVE US'.

We moved away from the window and sat on the seat on the porch, away from the window. Rick's head bowed and his hat was removed and placed in his hands as he ran his fingers along the brim.

"Right... Quick question," I began. "Before I talk about horsepower, how much drama do you have to want to use someone's blood to write that on the wall?"

Rick ignored my valid question as he looked up and gazed at the paddock with the single brown horse in it. "Horse... Power?"

Standing up, he strode over to the horse and paddock, taking a measure of rope from beside the gate as he walked around the gate.

"We're going to Grand Theft Auto a horse?"

The sheriff hat that was on Rick's head was placed onto a fence pole, before he edged closer to the horse whilst I perched on the gate.

_God I wish I had popcorn... Am I a terrible person if I laugh when the horse kicks him in the dick?_

Unfortunately... I mean fortunately for him, Rick managed to sooth the horse into accepting him as his friend and after leading him out of the paddock, he was able to saddle the horse up, after breaking into the stables and finding dusty piles of shit and equipment for the horse.

"You're gonna have to sit in front of me," Rick stated. "My bag's larger than yours and you can just squeeze yours between your legs." When I didn't immediately hop off the gate, he sighed, tying the horse up to the fence and raised his arms.

"What the fu-"

"Jump, I'll catch you."

Rolling my eyes, I got down without his help. "Don't look so down because you couldn't handle the merchandise. You can still help me up onto the horse... I'm going to name him Dean."

"You know, you're not exactly what I expected nurses to act like."

I snorted as I swung my bag off and dropped it in the dirt. "And I expected you to be more like John Wayne."

Rick gently lifted my hips as I slipped one foot into the stirrup and pushing more on my arse than anything else as I sat in the saddle and shifted until I faced forwards. After passing me my bag and his, in one single leap he righted himself on the horse behind me.

I turned my head to look over my shoulder to see him slightly smirking smug as shit under all of that beard.

"Just because you can get on a horse does not mean you're John Wayne. If you're lucky you can be Owen Wilson in the Night at the Museum. Now where to cowboy?"

He didn't answer me as he urged the horse away from the farm.

_This is going to be a long journey that I can't pass with I'm On My Way..._

* * *

"Hello ladies~ Look at your man, now back to me, now back at your man, now back to me. Sadly your man is-"

"Nurse, what are you doing?"

I shush him. "Sadly your man is not me. But if he stopped using lady-scented body wash and switched to Old Spice, he could smell like he's me. Look down, look back up. Where are you? You're on a boat with a man your man could smell like. What's in your hand, back at me-"

"Seriously, what _are_ you doing? This is no time to be foolin' around-"

"I'm not fucking you or anything Rick. You're the one that wanted to brood, I'm entertaining myself. Now where was I... I have it! It's an oyster with two tickets inside to that thing you love. Look again. The tickets are  _now diamonds!_ Anything is possible when your man smells like Old Spice and not a lady. I'm on a horse." I trail off, whistling what I think is the Old Spice theme.

_Didn't want to play I Spy, didn't want to tell stories or talk about Shrek. What else am I meant to do; talk to the horse?_

_...For the rest of the ride I talked to the horse._

* * *

The city was silent when we entered on horseback. As we passed broken down buses and finally shut down hipster coffee shops, more walkers came out of the shadows. One that looked like an unmade up Joker made me urge the horse by hitting Rick in the side with my elbow.

As we passed the tank, I swung my leg round so I was sat side-saddle and announced over the groans of the undead, "I'm going to wait in that tank to see if there's anything I can grab. You come pick me up when the path is clear."

"Alright, take a-"

"Screwdrivers in my bag. Just fuck one of them up with it by plunging it through the eye and socket to penetrate the brain. I won't risk the noise or the damage to my ears of a shot." At his incredulous look, I stated, "You aren't the only one that wants to survive this shit." With that I hopped off of the horse and walked over to the tank.

Heaving my bag off of me, I threw it up onto the plate covering the wheel and clambered up after it. I did this method until I got to the hole at the top and after throwing my bag in, I fell inside after it, only to slip and fall on top of it.

After recovering, I rolled off of it, closed the door on top to make sure nothing could crawl in and sat on the ground next to the...

" _Holy shit!"_  I hissed, the corpse still limp so instead of relaxing I slipped the screwdriver from my bag. When I grabbed the thing's hair and slammed it's head against the tank's inside. Raising the screwdriver, I barely watched the zombie open it's jaws wide before I plunged the screwdriver through it's temple and again and again.

When I was done, the head was just a simple mash that stained my clothes and hands so I left it and scooted away until I was sat opposite and closed my eyes.

_So many options... I could have a nap or a wank..._

_Nah, I'm not a necrophiliac so I'll just check my bag for useful stuff._

* * *

Maybe it was minutes later but after sitting there numb for a while, I heard the groans outside increase and scuffling.

Familiar whispering under the tank made me lean my head over the hole to peer at the idiot raising his pistol to his head.

A simple whistle grabbed his attention.

"Get in, loser!"

Rick scrambled in and after I threw the remains of the body of the walker soldier out through the hole, we closed it tight.

"So... Don't suppose you've got a plan, do you?"

Rick didn't answer me, simply panted and pressed himself against the wall next to me as we listened to the scramble outside.

_If this is the end of the road, this was a short and shit adventure..._


	4. Used Condoms - Not By Me (Chapter 3)

"Dear Lord," Rick began as he squeezed my hands in his, sitting cross-legged across from me. In this tank, we attempt to give up our sins despite the fact that he's probably the protagonist and this is all for naught. However I don't wish to be lunch meat for some rotting lunch lady so I am willing to do anything at this point, even the gross shit from 'would you rather'. "We thank thee for our lives and-"

"We wish to live another day so if you're not going to help us we'll just sell out souls to the- OW!"

Rick's closed eyes twitch as he squeezes my hands tight. "-I hope my family finds me in heaven. Amen."

After our final prayer, Rick had insisted on it because apparently Southern Americans really like God, (who knew?) we fell into silence where I simply stared at the wall and Rick sat with his head bowed.

Finally, when we thought all hope was lost, the radio began to crackle and God said unto thee; "Hey, you alive in there?"

In a mad scramble to get over to it, Rick managed to smack his head against a bar that just was there for some reason before he clutched onto the radio for dear life.

Desperately, Rick shouted into it, "Hello? Hello!?"

The radio clicked again followed by a sigh of relief. "There you are. You had me wondering."

"Where are you? Outside?-"

Incredulously I could only utter, "No shit, Rick."

I was ignored as he asked, "Can you see us right now?"

"Yeah, I can see you. You're surrounded by walkers. That's the bad news."

"There's good news?" I asked, already knowing the result before radio-head confirms it.

"No."

 **"** Listen," Rick began. "Whoever you are, I don't mind telling you I'm a little concerned in here."

 **"** Oh man," the guy breathed out. "You should see it from over here. You'd be having a _major_ freak-out."

"Reassuring," I commented gazing up at the roof of the tank, the banging of fists echoing inside this sturdy tin can.

 **"** Got any advice for me?" Rick asks, ignoring me.

And then the guy on the radio said something that made me wish my years of 'hard work' - wanking, talking shit and general memeing - had been spent doing track, "Yeah, I'd say make a run for it."

Rick looked at me worriedly, sweat forming on his forehead before he asked, "That's it? 'Make a run for it?'"

I'm doubting it but for more than just the one obvious and dangerous reason.

Clearly someone had pulled on radio guy's dick and broken the skin because he snapped, "My way's not as dumb as it sounds. You've got eyes on you from the outside here. There's one geek still up on the tank but the others have joined in on the... feeding frenzy when the horse went down. You with me so far?"

"So far."

"Excuse me, did you just say that the horse died?" The guy didn't deny it so I hissed at Rick, "We're going to be having words about Dean later and those words are not 'Look at your man'."

"Okay. The street on the other side of the tank is less crowded. If-"

"-We go now whilst they're distracted and get the fuck out of dodge. Sounds like a plan," I stated. Grabbing my bag, I slipped it back on.

Rick decided to be a dick and asked, "My ammo... I dropped it outside. Any chance I can make a break for it?"

Sarcasm spews out of my mouth, "Oh yes Rick, but of course! Why don't we mosey on down to the nice undead people and say 'Excuse me sir, madam, or other, gender is really hard to tell right now, but could we have our things back and just be on our way?'. And oh look! You've saved our horse!" At Rick's blank look I could barely hold it in me not to whack my face so hard into the side of the tank my face would be imprinted. "There is no chance. Get over it."

"She's right," the guy on the walkie confirmed, my face splitting into a smug grin. "What have you got on you?"

"Hang on..." Rick grabbed his shiny pistol and counted the bullets in the cartridge and going through the dead guy's stuff, grabbing a grenade and my screwdriver. Diving back he reported, "I've got a Beretta, one clip with fifteen rounds."

"A screwdriver, unfortunately not sonic, and that's... about it..." I trailed off.

"Make ‘em count. Jump off the right side of the tank, keep going in that direction.  There’s an alley up the street, maybe 50 yards.  Be there."

Standing up, making sure to avoid my head and ending up like Rick, I wait for Rick as he asks, "Hey, what’s your name?"

_Why does it matter? We'll be dead sooner or later and so will he-_

"Have you been listening? You’re running out of time!"

"Right." Standing up, Rick grabbed a metal shovel off of the wall of the tank and breathing heavily he wrenched open the top of the tank.

Something thudded to the floor and Rick climbed out of the hole, allowing me to pull myself up.  _All those years of working my arms are finally paying off... Thank you Harry Potter books; you're representation may just be a cash grab but you're so full of shit you're weight training._

Rick was not graceful. After sliding down the side of the tank, standing on the bit covering the wheels that were about three steps high, he hopped off of the tank, sending him sprawling to the floor with a shout whilst I took a little more time climbing down safely before coming to his side, giving him the time to stagger to his feet.

Rick's lack of ballet or whatever would have made him less of a fuck up was making him limp and clutch onto his side, probably that wound from earlier, whilst he shot at the zombies in front of us, ignoring the fuckers behind us.

After seeing a discarded shopping cart sprawled in the road, clearly too high for Rick to jump as it was probably the equivalent of one and a half steps, I shoved him around a corner. Around the corner, Rick aimed his gun at the now shocked Asian kid.

"Whoa! Not dead! Come on! Come on!"

Rick shoved me in before him, leaving me in not the greatest man sandwich but it will do, as we raced up the alley with Rick shooting at the mob behind us.

Reaching a fire escape, the guy hurried up the ladder with me hot at his heels with his dick almost in my face as Rick stood and shot at things.

"FOR FUCK'S SAKE RICK!"

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING? COME ON!"

Placing his pistol back in the holder, Rick began climbing up after us with all the grace and efficiency of a dog cocking it's leg and pissing on an electric fence.

Thankfully it seemed I had been stuck with a main character so the zombies didn't drag him down to his demise like the horse.

_RIP Dean the Horse. May he rest in pieces..._

Now at the top I was able to grab onto Rick's collar and yank him up, my chest heaving like a cartoon factory as I panted.

"Nice moves there, Clint Eastwood," the guy mock-complimented. "You the new Sheriff come riding in yo clean up the town?"

"It wasn't my intention."

The guy rolled his eyes as he dismissed Rick's reply, "Yeah. _Whatever_. Yeehaw. You’re still a dumb-ass." Flicking his gaze to me, still leant over the rail like he was going to be sick on a boat, he asked, "What about you Girl Friday?

"Personally I'm more of a Inigo Montoya or Thranduil but nah, I'm just Y/N."

"She's a nurse," Rick clarified before holding his hand out for the guy to shake. "Rick. Thanks"

The guy took the offered hand, drawing his gaze from the floor. "Glenn. You’re welcome."

I wasn't impressed. Friendship is magic and all that but at the bottom of the ladder we've got bigger problems. "Alright when you two are done with the foreplay can we please haul ass and get out of here?"

As Glenn's eyes flicked down, Rick put the Beretta into Glenn's backpack.

"Oh no."

The growls were for once not coming from my stomach but the large mob at the bottom of the ladder that threatened to overwhelm it, and despite being able to climb a tank they couldn't climb a ladder.

_The ladder..._

As if able to read my mind, Glenn and Rick looked up to see the ladder continued far up without any breaks.

"The bright side: It’ll be the fall that kills us." At my incredulous look of mistrust and 'are-you-out-of-your-fucking-mind?', Glenn shrugged. "I’m a glass-half-full kind of guy."

_I'm more of a drain the entire glass and complain but sure..._

* * *

After scaling the ladder and walking through the roof tops and doors we could, I stopped over an alley and stared down at the mess of tangled bodies stumbling around like drunks. In any other circumstance it could be kind of funny... if they weren't dead.

_I wonder if Hitler's a zombie... Zombie Nazis because that's never been done before-_

Still in the man sandwich, Rick pushed me forward, up and over a ledge which Rick was miraculously able to hop which alerted me to the conversation they were having.

"Are you the one that barricaded the alley?" Rick inquired.

"Somebody did," Glenn answered before picking up the pace. "I guess when the city got overrun. Whoever did it was thinking not many geeks would get through."  _I need the breathe it would take to argue._

We stopped at an open hatch in the floor which Glenn encouraged me to drop my bag down after his, which I complied if only for a soft landing.

"Back at the tank.  Why’d you stick your neck out for us?" Rick asked.

"Call it foolish, naïve hope that if I’m ever that far up shit creek, somebody might do the same for me. Guess I’m an even bigger dumb-ass than you." Glenn stepped into the hatch, found his footing 

Following Glenn down into the building through the shaft, the man sandwich with Y/N filling, filed in before the door was shut by Rick who brought up the rear.

Grabbing my bag from the floor, I hurried after Glenn as we went through the building, down multiple steps and into an alley.

Drawing a walkie talkie from somewhere, Glenn shouted into it, "I'm back. Got two guests plus four geeks in the alley."

A door in the building opposite opened revealing two men in riot gear with baseball bats who killed off the zombies in the alley, allowing us to pass them into the building.

"MORALES, LET'S GO!"

The door was slammed shut behind us before a snarling blonde woman angrily shoves me back, pushing me into Rick who slams into the stack of boxes behind him, whilst she stands pointing a gun at my face.

"You sons of bitches. We ought to kill you."

Morales steps in. "Just chill out, Andrea. Back _off."_

"Come on, ease up," a black woman states.

"Ease up? You’re kidding me, right? We’re dead because of these stupid assholes!"

"Andrea, I said back the hell off" Morales states, stepping close enough to take the gun away whilst not actually doing anything. 

She doesn't and whilst Rick is leaning back as far as he can so she doesn't shoot him, I stay put and chose the worst words possible; "Look do us both a favour and pull the trigger." She doesn't. "JUST DO IT!"

Finally, Andrea gets the gun out of my face and turns away weeping like a widow who has married her fourth husband on the orders of Nando's to help create the Piri Piri sauce. Turning back to us with red-rimmed eyes she spits out, "We’re dead –all of us – because of you!"

"You're... welcome?"  _How the fuck am I meant to respond to this situation? She just started crying! I should be crying because she had a gun in my face and I had to do exercise!_

 _"_ I don't understand."

Morales grabs Rick by the arm and leads him along, motioning for me to follow which I do. Mainly so I'm not shot in the foot by the bitch who follows us, along with the rest of their group.

"Look, we came into the city to scavenge supplies. You know what the key to scavenging is?  _Surviving!_  You know the key to surviving? Sneaking in and out, tiptoeing. Not shooting up the streets like it’s the O.K. Corral."

The black guy behind us states, "Every geek for miles around heard you popping off rounds."

"You just rang the dinner bell," Andrea snarks.

As we've talked, we've been lead through to the front of the building which turns out to be a department store. Outside the large plate glass windows, zombies thrash against the glass in an attempt to break in with a swarm forcing them closer to the currently not broken glass.

Stunned, Rick stops in his tracks next to me.

"Get the picture now?"

Instead of being allowed to let the monstrosity of the situation sink in, Andrea gasps out, "Oh God."

Some of the zombies now have rocks. As they bang those rocks against the glass, cracks begin to form.

Backing away, I tug Rick with me to make sure we're out of sight behind some of the ugliest clothes I've ever seen.

"What the hell were you doing out there anyway?" Andrea asked.

"Trying to flag the helicopter," Rick replied.

"Helicopter? Man, that's crap! Ain't no damn helicopter."

"You were chasing a hallucination. Imagining things. It happens," the black woman attempts to  consoles.

"Okay Rick maybe next time we swing past a hospital or a retirement home we'll get you some meds," I suggest, backing away slightly. If he goes Jared Lego on us I am out. _No one wants used condoms._

"I saw it." Rick insists, glaring at the group around us.

Morales nods warily before asking, "Hey, T-Dog, try that C.B. Can you contact the others?"

"Others?" I inquire wondering if Duane and his father are with them.

"The refugee centre?" Rick swings...

And he misses as the black woman smashes his dreams, "Yeah, the refugee centre. They’ve got biscuits waiting at the oven for us."

"Got no signal," T-Dog shouts before suggesting, "Maybe the roof?"

A gun shot rings out causing me to turn my gaze to the ceiling.

"Oh no. Is that Dixon?" Andrea complains.

"What is that maniac _doing?_ "

"Come on, let’s go," Glenn orders and once more I follow him.


	5. Grand Theft Auto Atlanta (Chapter 4)

Racing to the rooftop, I'm surprised I haven't cracked my head on the steps the amount of times someone pushes me forwards.

Finally arriving to where the now near-deafening gun shots where being fired off by one man.

"Hey, Dixon, are you crazy?!" Morales shouts at the crazy fucker with the rifle.

Turning on us, the fucker turns his rifle and points it at us. "Hey! Y’all be more polite to a man with a gun! Huh? Ah!" After jumping down, he cockily walks towards us with a smirk. "Only common sense."

_Holy shit, it's Yondu except he's white?_

"Man, you wasting bullets we ain’t even got, man!" T-Dog shouts, jumping down towards him. "And you’re bringing even more of them down on our ass! Man, just chill."

Clearly affronted, his raises his palms and his volume. "Hey, bad enough I’ve got this taco bender on my ass all day. Now I’m gonna take orders from you? I don’t think so, bro. That’ll be the day."

“'That’ll be the day?' You got something you want to tell me?" T-Dog asked.

Attempting to be the peacemaker, Morales stepped in. "Hey, T-Dog man, just leave it."

"No-"

"All right? It ain’t worth it. Now Merle, just relax, okay? We’ve got enough trouble."

Rick and I look at Glenn questioningly. In response, Glenn shakes his head as he motions for us to leave it alone.

"You want to know the day?" Racist Earth Yondu asked.

"Yeah."

"I’ll tell you the day, Mr. 'YO.'"  _Shit is about to go down. I don't know who my money is on._ "It’s the day I take orders from a nigger."

"Mother –" T-Dog cut himself off as he threw a punch.

Blocking it, Merle threw his own and the two began to fight like drunk children; probably not going to do much damage as they were barely hitting each other.

"Hey, come on Merle, that’s enough," Morales once again tried to step in.

"Come the fuck on," I complained. "If he's obviously not backed off, he's not going to anytime soon."

I was ignored over all of the shouting the others were doing.

"Dixon!" Rick jumps over a pipe to interfere... and Merle clocks him with a hard left. Rick flew back and down to the ground back over the pipe.

"Well done."  _God I wish I had popcorn._

With a sigh I slipped off of the pipe I was sat on and walked casually over to Rick.

Dixon planted a heavy shove into T-Dog’s chest then picked him up before punching him. T-Dog’s head bangs into the pipe with a loud clang.

"Stop it!"

"Dixon, get off him!" Andrea demanded.

Checking Rick's vitals, I can ascertain that he's still breathing. A little cut, more of a graze really is on his forehead.  _Fuck me, how hard is it for someone to be killed here?_

Digging through my backpack, I find some plasters. Choosing the Hello Kitty ones over the plain or Batman, I select a single one before zipping up the bag and slipping it back on.

"Dixon you’re gonna hurt him." 

"ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS? OF COURSE HE'S GOING TO HURT HIM! IT'S A FIGHT!" I shout over my shoulder, unpeeling the plaster before sticking it on Rick's forehead when he begins to groan and sit up.

I began to help him up when he slumps back against the wall.

T-Dog was on the ground with Merle sat on top of him and beats him with his fists. Morales tries to break it up but Dixon knocks him away. Merle pulls out a revolver cocks it and points it at T-Dog’s face.

"No no no. Please please," Andrea begins to beg weakly.

 _I'm bored of this now..._ "Girls, you're both pretty! Now put down the fucking gun before I lose my shit and leave you as zombie bait!"

As if to emphasise my point, thunder begins to rumble.

_Pathetic fallacy at it's finest..._

Merle spits on T-Dog’s chest and rubs it in.

"Oh that is wrong on  _so_  many levels. Generally if you rub that much liquid on another man, you're about to slip you're dick in them."

Clearly the racist is also homophobic as he only backs away to start shouting incoherently at me whilst T-Dog struggled to get up, grunting from the pain.

Clearly deciding I wasn't worth it, Merle stands up with his gun still aimed at T-Dog as he shouts, "Yeah! All right! We’re gonna have ourselves a little powwow, huh? Talk about who’s in charge. I vote me. Anybody else? Huh? Democracy time, y’all. Show of hands, huh? All in favor? Huh? Come on. Let’s see ‘em."

Morales lifts his hand.

Andrea rolled her eyes at Morales. "Oh, come _on_."

"All in favour? Yeah, that’s good."

Glenn and Jacqui raise a hand. Jacqui’s middle finger is pointed. Andrea raises her hand last.

"Yeah. Now that means I’m the boss, right? Yeah. Anybody else? Hmm? Anybody?"

"Yeah," Rick and I reply.

Merle looks around and Rick hits him in the jaw with the butt of Merle’s rifle. He drops to the ground, stunned but not out. Rick uses his handcuffs to attach Merle to the pipe on the roof.

Despite the cuffs, Rick pulled Dixon up by his shirt and gets in his face.

"Who the hell are you man?" Merle asked.

"Officer Friendly," I answered for Rick as he reached around and took Merle's gun.

Removing the clip, he turned back to Dixon.

"Look here, Merle," Rick began. "Things are different now. There are no  _Niggers_ any more. No dumb-as-shit, inbred white-trash fools either. Only dark meat and white meat. There’s us and the dead. We survive this by pulling  _together,_ not apart."

"Screw you, man."

"Do you make it a habit to miss the point?" I ask.

"Yeah? Well screw you too bitch."

Rick cocks Merle’s gun before pointing it at Merle’s temple. "Ought to be polite to a man with a gun. Only common sense," Rick echoes Merle's earlier words.

"You wouldn’t. You’re a cop."

Rick lowers the gun. "All I am any more is a man looking for his wife and son. Anybody that gets in the way of that is gonna lose. I’ll give you a moment to think about that."

"That was deep... You sure you're not high?"

As if my words triggered something, Rick's eyes locked onto something on Merle's face. Beginning to pat Merle down, he avoided my gaze as I begin to snigger.

Rick withdraws a white powder in Merle’s pocket. He looks closely at Merle’s face. "Got some on your nose there." He flicks his nose for emphasis.

"What are you gonna do? Arrest me?" Merle laughed.

Swiping the packet from Rick, I walked to the side of the building. Dangling it over, I watched the outrage on Dixon's face appear just before I let go.

"Hey! What are you doing? Man that was my stuff! Hey!" Yanking at the handcuff, he grunted before threatening, "If I get loose, you’d better pray –yeah, you hear me, you bitch?! You hear me?"

"Yeah, your voice carries," Rick said.

"Do you hear me too, you filthy pig?!"

Rick walks to the wall and flexes his hand in pain. He stops when Morales joins him.

The thunder rumbles again, prompting more moaning from the dead below.

Looking over the side, it appeared the swarm had increased to the point that it was basically a halloween mosh pit or a monster mash.

"God, it’s like Times Square down there," Andrea gasped out.

"How’s that signal?" Morales asked.

T-Dog answered honestly, "Like Dixon’s brain – weak."

The finger is all T-Dog receives.

"Keep trying," Morales urged.

"Why? There’s nothing they can do. Not a damn thing." Glaring at Rick, who had now joined my side by the edge, and I, Andrea stormed off.

 _"_ Got some people outside the city is all. There’s no refugee centre. That’s a pipe dream."

"Then she’s right. We’re on our own. It’s up to us to find a way out."

Merle decides to speak up, "Good luck with that. These streets ain’t safe in this part of town from what I hear."  At Andrea, he calls, "Ain’t that right, sugar tits? Hey, Honey-bunch, what say you get me out of these cuffs; we go off somewhere and bump some uglies? Gonna die anyway."

Finally, Andrea redeemed herself; "I’d rather."

"Rug muncher. I figured as much."

“'The streets ain’t safe.' Now there’s an understatement," I snidely remarked. "It's like saying poison is deadly."

Rick asks, "What about under the streets? The sewers?"

"Yeah, if the turtles can do it, why not us?"

"Oh man. Hey, Glenn, check the alley. You see any manhole covers?"

Growling walkers still litter the alley when Glenn checks. "No, must be all out on the street where the geeks are."

"Maybe not. Old building like this built in the twenties. Big structures often had drainage tunnelled into the sewers in case of flooding down in the sub-basements," Jacqui stated.

"How do you know that?" Glenn asked.

"It’s my job – was. I worked in the city zoning office."

_She is going to die very soon because that's an overly specific set of skills._

* * *

Down inside the building all of us excluding the racist and the subject of his abuse, peer down the steep stairwell.

"This is it? Are you sure?"

"I really scoped this place out the other times I was here. It’s the only thing in the building that goes down. But I’ve never gone down it. Who’d want to, right?"

We all look at Glenn because Glenn is clearly the Shaggy of our Mystery Inc.

Realising all eyes are on him and he's been volunteered as tributes, he just lets out a little, "Oh. Great."

"We’ll be right behind you," Andrea attempts to comfort.

"No, you won’t. Not you," Glenn declines.

"Why not me? Think I can’t?"

"Jeez it's not a misogyny thing, is it? Get off your high horse and think logically."

"I wasn’t –" Glenn began to protest.

"Speak your mind," Rick offers Glenn.

Glenn begins, "Look, until now I always came here by myself– In and out, grab a few things –no problem. The first time I bring a group – Everything goes to Hell. No offense. If you want me to go down this gnarly hole, fine– But only if we do it _my_ way. It’s tight down there. If I run into something and have to get out quick, I don’t want you all jammed up behind me getting me killed. I’ll take one person-" Looks at Rick. "–not you either. You’ve got Merle’s gun and I’ve seen you shoot. I’d feel better if you were out in that store watching those doors, covering our ass. And you-" Looks at me. "-I'd rather have a nurse ready up here so I need you to stay with those with weapons." To Andrea he stated, _"_ And you’ve got the only other gun, so you should go with him." To Marles, he demands, "You be my wingman. Jacqui stays here. Something happens, yell down to us, get us back up here in a hurry."

"Okay, everybody knows their jobs," Rick stated. Reassuringly, he pats Glenn on the shoulder.

Glenn, with a flash light in his mouth, goes down the ladder first with Morales following after him.

When the water splashes, I turn to Rick and say, as he leads me through the halls by my sleeve, "There's too many options; they've slipped and are drowning in shallow water, Pennywise has grabbed them, one of them is trying to numb a jellyfish sting..."

* * *

Entering the sales room, I ended up finishing my options with, "Or they successfully landed."

The zombies still were pressed up against the glass, growling and banging.

"Sorry for the gun in your face," Andrea apologises.

"People do things when they’re afraid," Rick concedes.

I look at him as if he's grown another head because I am basically shitting myself all the time and I've not almost hurt anyone living... yet.

"Not that it was entirely unjustified. You did get us into this." Well Andrea's redemption arc was momentary and pointless.

"If I get us out, would that make up for it?" Rick asked.

"Yes."

I'm ignored.

"No, but it’d be a start."

Pointedly, Rick advises, "Next time though, take the safety off. It won’t shoot otherwise."

"Oh."

"Is that your gun?" Rick asks Andrea whilst I meander around, slipping my bag off and slipping things in it such as t-shirts, socks etc.

"It was a gift, why?"

Rick puts his hand out, Andrea gives it to him. He pushes up on the side.

"Little red dot means it’s ready to fire. You may have occasion to use it."

"Good to know."

* * *

My looting of supplies done, I look back to see Andrea looking at a necklace with a mermaid shaped pendant.

In the background, walkers are still going off.

As long as they haven't broken the glass, it's not dangerous enough to consider running away yet.

Rick walks over to Andrea, just before me to look at the necklace she's looking at.

"See something you like?"

"Not me, but I know someone who would, my sister." _Oh here we go._ "She’s still such a kid in some ways. Unicorns, dragons – She’s into all that stuff. But mermaids – they rule. She loves mermaids."

_Please tell us this. It's not like revealing more information than we know about you will lead to your sister's death or anything..._

"Why not take it?" I ask.

"There’s a cop staring at me," she states as if it holds any meaning. Rick just chuckles in response before she asks, "Would it be considered looting?"

"I don’t think those rules apply any more. Do you?"

Smiling, Andrea puts the necklace in her pocket.

The glass shatters, ending the _tender_ moment.

The walkers have broken enough glass to reach the inner doors. Rick and Andrea take up positions, their guns aimed and ready. Morales, Jacqui and Glenn run up behind them.

"What did you find down there?" I ask so as not to distract the people with guns.

"Not a way out," Morales answered honestly.

"We need to find a way…and soon."

"No shit, Sherlock."

* * *

The thunder continues to rumble above us as we stand on the roof once more gazing down.

"That construction site," Rick points out. "Those trucks – they always keep keys on hand."

Morales takes the binoculars, looks and then looks down at the street below. "You’ll never make it past the walkers."

"You got us out of that tank," I remind Glenn.

"Yeah, but they were feeding. They were distracted."

"Can we distract them again?" Rick asks.

Merle decided to chip in with his age old wisdom, "Right. Listen to him. He’s onto something. A diversion, like on 'Hogan’s Heroes.'"

"God. Give it a rest."

"They’re drawn by sound, right?" I query as I look through the toolbox and picking up things I may be able to use as a medic, throwing a useless and kind of flimsy looking saw over to Merle.

"Right, like dogs," Glenn answers. "They hear a sound, they come."

"What else?"

"Aside from they hear you? They see you, smell you and if they catch you, they eat you."

"They can tell us by smell?" Rick asked.

"Can’t you?"

"They smell dead, we don’t," Andrea pointed out. "It’s pretty distinct."

_Oh no..._

* * *

Back in the department store Rick grabs several pairs of rubber gloves.

"Quick question, but why the fuck have I been volunteered for this?"

"If bad ideas were an Olympic event, this would take the gold," Glenn commented.

Rubber gloves are passed out amongst the group.

"He’s right. Just stop, okay? Take some time to think this through," Morales attempts to reason.

"How much time?" Rick asked. "They already got through one set of doors, that glass won’t hold forever."

Rick tosses a raincoat to Glenn and then one to me.

As I slip it on,  Rick and Morales burst through the door into the alley. Glenn holds a bat and stands guard. They grab a walker body from the ground and rush back inside.

Rick has added a clear plastic face shield to his raincoat and rubber gloves. It’s pushed up on his head. He looks around at the others.

Sighing, he lowers his shield and with a crowbar turns to the fire axe on the wall. Smashing the glass, he takes the axe.

By now, everyone is wearing rubber gloves and raincoats. They are grouped around the corpse. Rick gets a running start with the axe and swings it but pulls back at the last second. He drops the axe, takes off the head shield and his gloves. He checks the corpse’s pockets and pulls out his wallet.

"Wayne Dunlap, Georgia license. Born in 1979," Rick reads before passing the license to Glenn which I peer at over his shoulder. _"_ He had twenty-eight dollars in his pocket when he died and a picture of a pretty girl. 'With love, from Rachel.' He used to be like us –worrying about bills or the rent or the Super Bowl. If I ever find my family, I’m gonna tell them about Wayne."

He replaces the wallet, puts his gear back on.

"One more thing – he was an organ donor," Glenn states.

I have to laugh at the coincidence before I'm startled to the point of dry heaving when suddenly Rick heaves the axe at the corpse of Wayne Dunlap.

"Madre de Dios!"

As Rick continues hacking at the corpse, I have to avert my gaze because even the squelching is turning my stomach.

"Oh! God! Gack!"

Rick continues chopping off legs, arms and through the torso.

"Oh God!"

"Dios!"

Despite looking ill, Rick shakes it off and hits again. And he hits the corpse again.

Rick takes off his shield and holds his nose with the elbow of his coat for a moment. He hands it and the axe to me as he orders, "Keep chopping."

With the shield in place, I comply whilst wishing I was anywhere else.

_The Winchesters never had to do this._

Glenn groans, complaining, "I am so gonna hurl."

"Later."

As I keep chopping, Rick begins to check for health and safety, "Everybody got gloves? Don’t get any on your skin or in your eyes."

Stopping, I move the axe to one side and stoop down with the rest to pick up guts and decayed flesh in my gloved hands.

Rick starts smearing my raincoat whilst I help him with his, Jacqui helps Glenn do the same. Everyone takes turns covering Rick, Glenn and I in the places we can't reach when Andrea drapes intestines over Glenn’s shoulders.

Glenn appropriately freaks out. "Oh, God! Oh jeez. Oh, this is bad. This is really bad."

"Think about something else – puppies and kittens," Rick attempts to comfort.

"Dead puppies and kittens," T-Dog mutters.

Glenn decides to vomit.

"Don't! I might be a sympathetic vomiter!"

"That is just evil. What is wrong with you?"

Jacqui to Rick deadpans, "Next time let the cracker beat his ass."

"I’m sorry, yo."

"You  _suck."_ _Have to agree with Glenn._

"Do we smell like them?" Rick asks, passing me the axe whilst he takes the pipe.

"Oh yeah _," Andrea confirms. Andrea_ gingerly puts her gun into Glenn's front pocket. "Glenn. Just in case."

"If we make it back, be ready," Rick cautioned.

"What about Merle Dixon?" T-Dog asks.

Rick pulls the handcuff keys out of his pocket and tosses it to T-Dog before turning to me. "Nurse, we need more guts."

Raising the axe, I bring it down with a swing that releases another splatter.

"Oh God!"

* * *

Finally ready, the original squad (Glenn, Rick and I), roll out through the creaking door. With bits of a corpse hanging from our necks, we slowly make our way into the alley. Whilst I carry one of the baseball bats, Rick has the axe and Glenn carries the crowbar.

In an attempt to look like zombies, my acting skills were deemed over the top, we shuffle down toward the street mimicking the way a walker walks. The few walkers in the alley don’t seem to smell our living flesh.

Arriving on the main road, we crawl under the metro bus slowly and begin to make our way to a smaller patch of the swarm.

* * *

Out from under the road, we were in a much less densely packed area so we now walk as we continue down the street toward the construction site at an agonizingly slow pace. Covered in walker guts, we pass by the walkers unnoticed.

Thunder once again grumbles, barely masking the zombie growls.

Gleefully shocked, Glenn whispered, "It’s gonna work. I can’t believe it."

"Don’t draw attention," Rick whispered back.

A walker looks at Glenn who growls in return weakly. Surprisingly, the walker moves on.

Still half a block away from the construction site’s security fence, the thunder crashes and heaven opens to wash away our sins.

Yet we continue on.

As we pass more walkers, we seem to draw more attention judging by the growling.

"The smell’s washing off, isn’t it? Is it washing off?" Glenn voices my panics.

"No, it’s not."

Walkers start to stop their shuffling and begin looking around.

"Well, maybe," I reply.

One walker roars before attacking Rick; he splits its head open with his axe.

"RUN!"

Rick and Glenn hack their way through the walkers whilst I beat my way through as we run to the chain link fence between us and the construction site.

Throwing our weapons over the fence, he helps me over by shoving me to the point I almost slipped and broke my neck before he and Glenn leapt up and over. Behind us, the walkers rush forward and pile up on the fence.

"These aren't needed any more." I tear my raincoat off whilst the other two do it as well.

Glenn runs for the key board while Rick turns and starts picking off the most aggressive walkers with his pistol, whilst I swiped up the axe in order to actually do some damage when the undead came too close.

"Rick!"

Glenn tosses the key to Rick; and we all run for the truck. One walker climbs over the fence and runs after us.

Starting the engine, Rick doesn't accomodate for me half sprawled on top of the two of them in my haste to get in.

When a walker pounds on Glenn's window, he and I both urge Rick in different ways, "Go go go go! _"_

_"JUST FUCKING DRIVE!"_

Rick backs the truck out, tires squealing. The walker is thrown off but continues to pursue judging by the mirrors. The crowd of walkers’ weight pushes against the gate until it collapses. They push through and chase after them.

The cube van breaks through the construction site fence on the far side. Rick drives it through and around the corner.

"Oh my God. Oh my God. They’re all over that place."

"You need to draw them away. Those roll-up doors at the front of the store –That area? That’s what I need cleared. Raise your friends. Tell them to get down there and be ready."

"And I’m drawing the geeks away how? I—I missed that part."

I grin at Rick as he states, "Noise."

* * *

Moments later on a deserted street Rick puts the crowbar through the driver’s side window of a red sports car. The alarm blares. Glenn covers his ears and fidgets while Rick works quickly with the car alarm blaring.

Taking my bag off and digging through it for the screwdriver, which I find, I pass it over for Rick to use to hot wire the car.

When the engine begins to rev, I slip in the passenger side of the sports car.

* * *

Moments later Glenn barrels down the road in the red sports car, the tires screeching as we pass Rick in the cube van on their way back to the department store.

While Glenn focuses on driving, I use his radio to contact the others. "Those roll-up doors at the front of the store facing the street – Meet the van there and be ready."

* * *

The red sports car races south down I85 with the car alarm blaring and after fiddling with the radio, finding rock music that played loud enough to lose myself in.

"Whoo-hoo-hoo! Yeah-hoo-hoo!" Glenn crowed, wind in his hair.

Feeling the wind racing past me and no death directly up my nose, I felt hope rise up in my body...

Or vomit.

But at least it's something that reminds me I'm alive.


	6. Good Cop, Bad Cop (Chapter 5)

Despite the winding roads, Glenn managed to get somewhere far enough away safely and pulled up on a small camp.

"Holy crap, turn that damn thing off!" An older guy in a fishing hat complained.

"I don’t know how!" Glenn defended, opening his door and slipping out.

A guy with a thick mess of curls stepped away from a woman and kid, exuding the confidence of Gaston. Him and probably Andrea's sister both talk at once, making me

"Pop the hood, please. Pop the damn hood please."

"My sister Andrea –"

Gaston was yelling to be heard, "Pop the damn hood please!"

"What? Okay, okay. Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!"

Glenn gets back in and reaches for the hood release.

Andrea's confirmed sister kept talking, "Is she okay? Is she all right?

"Yeah! Yeah! She’s okay! She’s okay!"

Glenn got out of the car now the switch was flicked.

"Is she coming back?" Andrea's really annoying sister kept asking.

"Yes!"

Gaston pulls some wires and the alarm stops. Fishing Hat and Ballcap are there, too.

"Why isn’t she with you? Where is she? She’s okay?" Andrea's sister, who I think is Amy, kept talking and the more she did the more I hoped I was accurate in my earlier statement.

"Yes! Yeah. Fine. Everybody is. Well, Merle not so much."

Gaston decided to turn on Glenn "Are you crazy, driving this wailing bastard up here? Are you trying to draw every walker for miles?"

"I think we’re okay," Fishing Hat attempted to step in.

Gaston almost broke his thick neck from whiplash. "You call being stupid okay?"

"Well, the alarm was echoing all over these hills. Hard to pinpoint the source."

Gaston glared at Fishing Hat.

"I’m not arguing. I’m just saying." To Glenn he asked, "It wouldn’t hurt you to think things through a little more carefully next time, would it?"

Glenn just shrugged. "Sorry. Got a cool car."

With the truck approaching, I sighed in relief.

_Finally, I'm not going to be the only stranger!_

Glenn smiles as Rick drives up in the cube van.

Morales gets out and the engine stops.

Rick stays in his seat and rubs his eyes. I choose to walk over to him, not wanting to deal with the strangers who are basically ignoring me.

The sliding door slid open just as I reached the truck.

"Amy!"

"Andrea!"

The sobbing sisters re-united. "You scared the shit out of me."

Opening the door on Rick's side, I slide in and budge him over. Gazing out at the families back together, I suggest, "You might as well get out of the truck. You look like an anti-social fuck and from one hospital dweller to another, when you don't at least try... Worse comes to worst, you do what any normal person does; you get wine and dined before getting fucked."

Rick sits in silence.

"I thought we had lost you folks for sure," Fishing Hat stated.

"How’d y’all get out of there anyway?"

"New guys got us out," Glenn replied.

"New guys?" Gaston's gaze flicked to the truck.

"Yeah, crazy vato y vata just got into town. Hey, helicopter boy! Nurse! Come say hello."

Rick didn't immediately move so I did the logical thing; shoved him until he had the choice to open the door or fall to the ground.

Urged on by yours truly, Rick walked forward slowly, a sad unsure look on his face.

"The guy’s a cop like you."

Gaston sees Rick, a look of disbelief on his face. Rick looks at Gaston as Gaston backs up shocked and no sign of happiness.  The little boy turns and sees us, his eyes going wide. His mother turns her head to see what he’s looking at.

Rick reacts as if he can’t believe his eyes, pointing at the boy from his photo and whispers, "Oh, my God."

Breaking away from me, leaving me hanging, Rick and his son run to each other. The mother runs after the kid.

"Dad! Dad!"

The kid hits Rick with a hug and they both go down on the ground.

"Carl. Oh!"

Rick picks Carl up and carries him to where Carl's mother stands looking as if she’d seen a ghost; stunned and blinking, her eyes wide open as if she still can’t believe them. She grabs Rick and pulls him to her. The three of them hug tightly, crying.

Meanwhile, I'm just awkwardly looking anywhere but the questionable gazes between Rick's reunion and me standing off to the side like I'm the only Hawaiian lover in a pizza convention.

"Hi! Nurse here," I greeted the others with a small wave who avoided looking at Gaston or the family on the floor. "You probably already knew that...so... I'm gonna just stand here in silence."

_So I did._

* * *

When night had fallen and my introduction brushed aside, the camp sat around after eating a measly meal.

Rick is sitting with Carl in his lap. Lori is sitting close, her hands in Carl’s hair.

"Disoriented. I guess that comes closest. Disoriented. Fear, confusion – all those things but… Disoriented comes closest."

Fishing Hat/Dale gave some sage advice, "Words can be meager things. Sometimes they fall short."

"I felt like I’d been ripped out of my life and put somewhere else. For a while I thought I was trapped in some coma dream, something I might not wake up from ever."

Carl looks up at his father. "Mom said you died."

I have to bite my lip at how nonchalant the kid says it as if he was talking about his report card rather than death.

Lori laid her hand on Carl’s forehead in silence.

"She had every reason to believe that. Don’t you ever doubt it," Rick comforted his son.

"When things started to get really bad, they told me at the hospital that they were gonna medevac you and the other patients to Atlanta, and it never happened," Lori informed her husband.

"Well, I’m not surprised after Atlanta fell." Lori let out a little sound of acknowledgement in response. "And from the look of that hospital, it got overrun. I'm lucky Nurse was there at all."

"Yeah, looks don’t deceive. I barely got them out, you know?" Shane/Gaston informed his friend.

"I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you, Shane. I can’t begin to express it."

"There go those words falling short again," Dale stated. "Paltry things."

In the centre of the second camp, a man throws on another log that send the fire flaring, a glowing beacon in the night.

Shane, because he's the ass-hole cop, shouted over to him, "Hey, Ed, you want to rethink that log?

"Its cold, man!"

"The cold don’t change the rules, does it? Keep our fires low, just embers so we can’t be seen from a distance, right?"

"I said it’s cold. You should mind your own business for once."

Shane gets up and storms over to the other fire. "Hey, Ed…"

Rick and Lori exchange a look full of caution that puts me on edge.

Softly, Shane claps a hand onto the other man's shoulder. "Are you sure you want to have his conversation, man?"

"Go on. Pull the damn thing out. Go on!"

Carol, who I had been introduced to briefly, sitting at the second fire gets up, goes around and takes the log out of the fire.

"Christ."

Carol goes back and sits. Shane uses his foot to put out the flaming log. Beside the man and woman a young girl, about twelve years old is sitting there, too. Shane sits on his haunches at the second campfire.

"Hey, Carol, Sophia. How are y’all this evening?" Shane greets.

"Fine. We’re just fine." She doesn't meet his eyes. _Probably something to do with the bruises on her shoulders._

"Okay."

"I’m sorry about the fire," Carol apologises.

"No no no. No apology needed," Shane attempts to apologise. _Good cop._ Shane smiles at Sophia kindly. "Y’all have a good night, okay?"

"Thank you."

"I appreciate the cooperation." Then he returns to our campfire, plopping himself back down with a sigh.

"Have you given any thought to Daryl Dixon?" Dale asked. "He won’t be happy to hear his brother was left behind."

"I’ll tell him. I dropped the key. It’s on me," T-Dog explained.

"I cuffed him. That makes it mine," Rick attempts to take all of the blame.

"Just as long as we all agree I wasn't involved. I even threw him a bone..."

"Guys, it’s not a competition," Glenn intervened. "I don’t mean to bring race into this, but it might sound better coming from a white guy."

"I did what I did," T-Dog admitted. "Hell if I’m gonna hide from him."

"We could lie," Amy offers.

"Or tell the truth. Merle was out of control. Something had to be done or he’d have gotten us killed _."_ To Lori she said, "Your husband did what was necessary. And if Merle got left behind, it is nobody’s fault but Merle’s."

"And that’s what we  _tell Daryl?_ I don’t see a rational discussion to be had from that, do you? Word to the wise—we’re gonna have our hands full when he gets back from his hunt."

"I was scared and I ran. I’m not ashamed of it," T-Dog admitted.

"We were all scared. We all ran. What’s your point?"

"I stopped long enough to chain that door. Staircase is narrow. Maybe half a dozen geeks can squeeze against it at any one time. It’s not enough to break through that. Not that chain, not that padlock. My point—Dixon’s alive and he’s still up there, handcuffed on that roof. That’s on us."

T-Dog gets up from the fire.

"Alright, you can guilt trip, but where am I going to sleep?" I asked.

T-Dog just shrugged before pointing at the lone green tent slightly away from the rest of the group.

With a sigh of resignation, I picked up my bag and made my way to the tent to pass out after the awful day, hoping this was all a nightmare.

* * *

It was still slightly dark out when the tent is slowly zipped open and I'm shaken awake. "Hey, get up."

Slowly I did, leaving the sweet embrace of a warm sleeping bag. _Damn, it wasn't a nightmare._

"You said you're a nurse, right?" Shane asked.

"...Yeah," I answered groggily.

"Think you can give my people a quick physical each? Better to catch signs of an illness early or..."

I shrugged. "Sure just send over whoever first."

* * *

My first patient was T-Dog. My medical practise was a stump on the top of the hill.

In my bag, I had some pens thrown in and a small blank notebook I had picked up at the station. After scribbling to find one that worked, I wrote his nickname under the top row, saving that for his actual name.

"What's your birth name?" At his hesitation I elaborated, "If it's your dead name or just something embarrassing, it can stay between us. Patient - medic confidentiality and all that."

"Theodore Douglas," he answered.

I jotted that down along with his gender, ethnicity and approximate age.

Checking his pulse (normal), temperature (forehead and hand not anally - normal) and reactions (eyes, knees, fingers etc. - normal), I found everything to be normal and decided to send him off.

"Don't you need me to take my clothes off?"

"I'm not giving you a prostate exam or anything... especially without gloves. If you're that desperate ask someone else." As T made a move to leave, I stopped him. "Before you go, can I ask how the key got lost?"

"I threw it to him... Maybe it's part of God's plan but he didn't catch it."

Seeing how uncomfortable he was, I decided it was best to let him go and send in the next patients.

* * *

Sophia and Carol were my next patients.

"Okay, tell you what, if you answer some questions for me, that will stay just between us, I'll give you some of this bar of chocolate." I waved the bar at her for emphasis. "Alright?"

Sophia readily agreed and I was able to take the same record in a similar fashion to T-Dog.

When that was over with, I broke off part of the bar of chocolate and gave it to her. "Off you go."

Once Sophia was gone, I began to examine Carol. When my hand brushed her wrist, I had to offer, "Carol, I just need you to know that anything you say can stay between us. If you need _anything-"_

"Thank you, nurse." With a small smile, she left the tent.

_I went through the rest of the patients easily enough in the same fashion, giving chocolate to the kids of the group._

* * *

With all the patients except Rick looked at, I decided to get out of the tent finally and help Dale, Jim and Morales in siphoning gas along with removing parts from the sports car. Ed, upon seeing a woman was invited to help, stormed off in a patriarchal huff.

"Look at ‘em. Vultures," Glenn commented behind us before calling, "Yeah, go on, strip it clean."

"Generators need every drop of fuel they can get," Dale elaborated. "Got no power without it. Sorry, Glenn."

"Thought I’d get to drive it at least a few more days."

"Maybe we’ll get to steal another one someday," Rick stated.

Looking over my shoulder at him from where I had been pulling apart the engine, I saw Rick pat Glenn on the back and walk over to where Lori was hanging newly washed clothing on a line.

Shane gets out of a jeep. "Water’s here, y’all. Just a reminder to boil before use," he announces.

"Are you asking me or telling me?" Lori's voice carried so far the rest of the camp were watching her glare at Rick out of the corner of their eyes.

_God dammit. It's too early._

"Asking." Rick keeps his voice down.

"Well, I think it’s crazy. I think it is just the stupidest way to break your son’s—"

A woman's screams rings out into the air.

"Mom!"

"Carl?"

Rick, Lori and I (after dropping everything but a spanner) run out of the camp and into the nearby woods where Carl and other children are calling out in alarm.

Shane runs toward Carl, too, with his shotgun aloft.

"Dad!"

"Mama! Mommy!"

"Rick!" Morales shouts, warning Rick to catch the shovel thrown at him.

"Y/N!" I drop the spanner to leave my hands open for the object thrown at me; a crowbar.

"It’s okay. I got him. I got him," Jacqui insists, falling to the floor by Carl who has run into Lori.

I run with the others under the tin can alarm system and past Jacqui, Lori and Carl.

"No, I’m okay," Carl reassures his mother.

In a small clearing we see a man hunched over a deer carcass. Shane covers him with his gun.

With his back to the us, the zombie just looks like a homeless man as he tears meat away from the carcass and feeds on it. Andrea and Amy run up onto the scene, gasping.

The carcass has arrows sticking out of it. I stay out of the inner circle, made of men who proceed to circle the deer, attracting the walker’s attention. It turns and growls at Rick.

Rick takes his shovel and hits the walker.

The walker keeps trying to get up so Morales, Glenn, Rick, Jim and Dale continue to beat on it with their weapons until Dale cuts its head off with his axe.

"It’s the first one we’ve had up here. They never come this far up the mountain," Dale states.

"Well, they’re running out of food in the city, that’s what."

A branch snaps by me followed by footsteps that make me spin on my heel to stare at the oncoming being.

The group raises their weapons ready to kill any other walker. Shane raises his shotgun and scans the forest. A man with a crossbow comes around a rock outcrop. Shane lowers his gun, everyone relaxes.

"Oh, Jesus," Shane exhales.

"Son of a bitch. That’s  _my_ deer! Look at it. All gnawed on by this..." The red-neck begins to kick the unliving shit out of the walker. "Filthy, disease-bearing, motherless poxy bastard!"

"Oh wow, another red-neck. How wonderful. Can we expect this one to be a racist too?" I mutter.

"Calm down, son. That’s not helping," Dale attempts to soothe.

The red-neck storms past me, angrily locking onto Dale.

"What do you know about it old man? Why don’t you take that stupid hat and go back to 'On Golden Pond'?"

"Oi, King of the Hill! Cut the shit!"

"Who the-"

"Knock it off!" Shane intervenes before the red-neck can storm over to me.

Instead the red-neck sighs. "I’ve been tracking this deer for miles."

He begins to pull his arrows out of the carcass.

"Gonna drag it back to camp, cook us up some venison. What do you think? Do you think we can cut around this chewed up part right here?"

"Wherever you're from this may be prime cooking but for

"That’s a damn shame. I got some squirrel—about a dozen or so. That’ll have to do."

The head of the walker starts snapping.

"Oh God." Amy and Andrea leave in horror and disgust.

"Come on, people. What the hell?" He shoots the head with an arrow through the eye. He puts his foot on the head and pulls the arrow back out. "It’s gotta be the brain. Don’t y’all know nothing?"

The man walks to the camp with the rest of us right behind.

Daryl begins to call out, "Merle! Merle! Get your ugly ass out here! I got us some squirrel! Let’s stew ‘em up."

"Daryl, just slow up a bit. I need to talk to you," Shane stated.

"About what?"

"About Merle. There was a—There was a problem in Atlanta."

"He dead?" Daryl asked.

"We’re not sure," Shane replied.

Clearly getting upset and pissed off, Daryl shouted, "He either is or he ain’t!"

Rick decided to intervene. Taking this as a sign that a fight was going to break out and I would probably need to patch Rick up again, I was glad I hadn't left my bag behind but still had it on my back. "No easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it."

"Who are you? Both of you?"

"Rick Grimes."

"I'm the Nurse; Y/N."

"Rick Grimes, you got something you want to tell me?" Daryl asked, squaring up.

"Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal. He’s still there."

T-Dog comes into the camp with his arms full of firewood.

Upset even more, Daryl had to take a step back. "Hold on. Let me process this. You’re saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof and you left him there?!"

"Yeah."

With a grunt, Daryl throws the rope of squirrels at Rick. Shane body slams Daryl knocking him to the ground. T-Dog drops the firewood and runs up.

Daryl pulls out his knife and goes after Rick.

"Watch the knife!" T-Dog warns.

"NO! REALLY? I THOUGHT HE WAS GOING TO EMBRACE IT!"

Daryl swings the knife at Rick and misses wildly. Rick punches Daryl in the gut while Shane grabs him behind and puts him in a choke hold.

I take the knife away from Daryl as Shane forces him to the ground, onto his knees.

_I have seen too much porn to know where this is going..._

"You’d best let me go!" Daryl protested.

"Nah, I think it’s better if I don’t," Shane remarked.

"Choke hold’s illegal!"

"You can file a complaint. Come on, man. We’ll keep this up all day."

Rick kneels down to be face to face with Daryl and looks him in the eye. "I’d like to have a calm discussion on this topic. Do you think we can manage that?"

I can only scoff.

Shane lets go of Daryl who falls to the floor panting for breath.

"What I did was not on a whim. Your brother does not work and play well with others."

The blame game was still on as T-Dog stated, "It’s not Rick’s fault. I had the key. I dropped it."

"You couldn’t pick it up?" Daryl asked.

"Well, I dropped it in a drain."

Daryl chokes up but pulls himself together. "If it’s supposed to make me feel better, it don’t."

"Well, maybe this will. Look, I chained the door to the roof so the geeks couldn’t get at him—with a padlock."

"It’s gotta count for something."

Daryl wipes more tears out of his eyes. "Hell with all y’all! Just tell me where he is so’s I can go get him!"

"He’ll show you. Isn’t that right?" Lori declares, appearing from nowhere.

_Is her going to leave a son going to become a running trend?_

"I’m going back."

Lori, angry, goes storms off into the camper.

Rick sighs.

* * *

"Um... I'm sorry about your brother," I attempt to apologise. Sat by the cooking fire with Daryl after checking all of his vitals, I attempt to at least be nice. "I'm sure if he was that desperate he could have cut- Oh hey, it's Rick."

Rick continues on up the hill, Shane following after.

"Well, look, I—I don’t, okay, Rick? So could you just—could you throw me a bone here, man? Could you just tell me why? Why would you risk your life for a douche bag like Merle Dixon?"

"Hey, choose your words more carefully." I could barely grab onto Daryl's shoulder quick enough.

"Oh no, I did. Douchebag’s what I mean. Merle Dixon—the guy wouldn’t give you a glass of water if you were dying of thirst-" Shane began.

"What he would or wouldn’t do doesn’t interest me.  _I_ can’t let a man die of thirst—me. Thirst and exposure. We left him like an animal caught in a trap. That’s no way for anything to die, let alone a human being."

"So you and Daryl, that’s your big plan?" Lori asks.

Rick turns and looks at Glenn.

"Oh, come _on."_

"You know the way. You’ve been there before. In and out, no problem. You said so yourself," Rick rationalises. "It’s not fair of me to ask, I know that, but I’d feel a lot better with you along. I know she would too."

Glenn looks at Lori and Carl.

"That’s just great. Now you’re gonna risk three men, huh?" Shane is clearly riding the crimson wave.

"Four," T-Dog corrects.

Daryl huffs. "My day just gets better and better, don’t it?"

"You see anybody else here stepping up to save your brother’s cracker ass?"

"Why you?" Daryl asks.

"You wouldn’t even begin to understand. You don’t speak my language."

"That’s four," Dale summarises.

"Five, actually," I state. At everyone's looks I just shrug. "If they're going in guns blazing, someone needs to make sure Merle hasn't got a concussion making dragging him along."

"Okay then. That's five."

"It’s not just five," Shane protests. "You’re putting every single one of us at risk. Just know that, Rick. Come on, you saw that walker. It was  _here._ It was  _in_  camp. They’re moving out of the cities. They come back, we need every able body we’ve got. We need ‘em here. We need ‘em to  _protect_  camp."

"It seems to me what you really need most here are more guns."

"Right, the guns." Glenn also acknowledged.

"Wait, what guns?"

Six shotguns, two high-powered rifles, over a dozen handguns. I cleaned out the cage back at the station before I left. I dropped the bag in Atlanta when I got swarmed. It’s just sitting there on the street, waiting to be picked up.

Lori starts to see that Rick’s trip is more than just a rescue mission.

"Ammo?" Shane asked.

"700 rounds, assorted," Rick answered.

"You went through Hell to find us. You just got here and you’re gonna turn around and leave?" Lori makes a valid point.

"Dad, I don’t want you to go _,"_ Carl says.

"To Hell with the guns, Shane is  _right._ Merle Dixon? He’s not worth one of your lives, even with guns thrown in. Tell me. Make me understand."

"I owe a debt to a man I met and his little boy. Same as the Nurse. Lori, if they hadn’t take me in, I’d have died. It’s because of them that I made it back to you at all. They said they’d follow me to Atlanta. They’ll walk into the same trap I did if I don’t warn him," Rick reasoned.

"What’s stopping you?"

"The walkie-talkie, the one in the bag I dropped. He’s got the other one. Our plan was to connect when they got closer."

"These are our walkies?" Shane inquired.

"Yeah."

"So use the C.B., what’s wrong with that?" Andrea asked.

"The C.B.’s fine. It’s the walkies that suck to crap. Date back to the seventies, don’t match any other bandwidth, not even the scanners in our cars."

"We _need_ that bag then," I summarise.

Lori's face turns sourer than a lemon but Rick doesn't look at her. Instead he focuses on Carl as he asks. "Okay?"

Carl nods yes.

_Fab._


	7. The Poison For Kuzko... (Chapter 6)

One car ride later where I had been asleep between Daryl and Rick to keep them separated, I was woken up with a gun shoved at me before being forced out of the car and running through Atlanta's wire fencing.

"Merle first or the guns?" Rick asked.

I rolled my eyes as I slipped through the fence after him.

"Merle! We ain’t even having this conversation," Daryl protested.

"We are." Turning to Glenn, Rick said, "You know the geography, it’s your call."

Nervously, Glenn mentally debated before deciding. "Merle’s closest. The guns would mean doubling back. Merle first."

With that we run off into the city, keeping closed ranks.

* * *

We stop in a building we've seen before. It’s the sales floor of the department store we'd been in before.

Rick gets Daryl’s, and in turn mine, attention and points out a walker that’s still inside.

Daryl gets in close so as not to miss the shot despite the fact he was already close enough that the head-shot was basically handed to him on a blood-stained platter. "Damn, you are one ugly skank."

"Like you're any better?"

Daryl just rolls his eyes before taking down the zombie with a head-shot, sending the thing to the ground with a thud.

Daryl pulls out his arrow and wipes it off on his leg and we set off once more.

* * *

The four of us run up the stairwell to the roof where Merle had been cuffed. T-Dog cuts the chain that he had bolted to the door.

As soon as the chain is loose, Rick yanks me out of Daryls' way, by my backpack, as he kicks the door open and runs out on the roof calling out for his brother.

"Merle! Merle!"

The rest of us follow him out. Merle doesn’t answer and we run around to the side where Merle was handcuffed.

Well, the handcuffs still there at least... and Merle's right hand.

Pacing around, Daryl cries out.

No one else says a word.

"No! No! NO! No!"

Daryl seems on the edge of a panic attack but before I can attempt to move towards him, Rick 

Daryl raises his crossbow and swings around, aiming it at T-Dog’s face. Immediately Rick cocks his gun and puts it to Daryl’s head.

T-Dog doesn’t flinch and neither does Daryl in the stand-off.

"Okay, as nice as this dick measuring contest isn't-"

"I won’t hesitate," Rick warns. "I don’t care if every walker in the city hears it."

"I do! What the fuck?"

Daryl, crying, drops the crossbow. T-Dog lets out a sigh. Rick un-cocked his weapon and lowers it.

Daryl blinks away some tears as he asks T-Dog, "You got a do-rag or something?"

T-Dog hands him one and Daryl uses it to wrap up Merle’s hand like they do to the sandwiches at Subway.

With a sigh, Daryl gingerly picks Merle’s hand up by a finger and examines the cut in the sandwich covering. "I guess the saw blade was too dull for the handcuffs. Ain’t that a bitch."

He wraps Merle’s hand up carefully and motions to Glenn. Wordlessly, he puts Merle’s hand in Glenn’s backpack.

Glenn's eyes almost bulge out of his head.

"He must have used a tourniquet—maybe his belt. Be much more blood if he didn’t," I elaborated and then pointed at the trail of blood leading away from the handcuff.

Daryl follows the trail of blood.

Rick motions to Glenn and I to follow them while T-Dog collects the dropped tools and Dale’s dropped bag.

Around a corner, I spot another doorway into the building.

Crossbow aimed high, Daryl goes through, Rick, Glenn and I right behind him. Rick has his gun out, ready to shoot.

"Merle? You in here?"

No response so we descend the stairwell once more.

* * *

We carefully make their way through the building with T-Dog, who has caught up to us, at my back behind Glenn.

We enter an abandoned receptionist’s area there are a couple walkers dead on the floor, their heads smashed in.

"Clean up on aisle five," I mutter.

"Had enough in him to take out these two sons-bitches one handed," Daryl proudly announces to the rest of us.

A crescent wrench lies on the floor beside the second one. Daryl reaches down and pulls back on his crossbow.

"Toughest asshole I ever met, my brother. Feed him a hammer, he’d crap out nails."

"How does that even work- You know what, not even gonna question red-neck logic."

"Any man can pass out from blood loss, no matter how tough he is," Rick counters, always the bearer of bad news.

We continue on, Rick with his handgun and Daryl with his crossbow in the lead.

* * *

The blood trail continues over a tile floor which probably means a kitchen area is nearby. That and the smell of something burning.

"Merle!"

"We’re not alone here. Remember?"

"Screw that," Daryl retorted. "He could be bleeding out. You said so yourself-"

T-Dog shushes the squabbling douches.

Rick and Daryl lead us into a kitchen area. Several sterno cans have been lit and are still burning. An abandoned bloody belt lies on the cook top nearby with blood splattered everywhere. Rick picks up a flat iron that has been used and left with crusted remains.

"What is that burned stuff?" Glenn asks me.

"Skin. He cauterised the stump," I answer. "How he was still awake enough to drag himself away amazes me."

Daryl shoots me a grin. "Told you he was tough. Nobody can kill Merle but Merle."

"Don’t take that on faith. He’s lost a lot of blood."

_Rick... fucking why?_

"Yeah? Didn’t stop him from busting out of this death trap."

They walk over to a window with more blood and a shattered pane.

"He left the building?" Glenn asked uselessly. "Why the Hell would he do that?"

"Why wouldn’t he? He’s out there alone as far as he knows, doing what he’s got to do-"

Rick looks out the window and points out a fire escape leading down. There’s a bloody towel on the ground nearby.

"-Surviving."

T-Dog snorts. "You call that surviving? Just wandering out in the streets, maybe passing out? What are his odds out there?"

"No worse than being handcuffed and left to rot by you sorry pricks-"

"Okay first of fucking all, I left a saw behind and second of all..."

I trail off at Rick's pointed look.

"You couldn’t kill him. Ain’t so worried about some dumb dead bastard." Talking pointedly he walks in close to Rick.

Unflinching Rick argues back, "What about a thousand dumb dead bastards? Different story?"

"Why don’t you take a tally? Do what you want. I’m gonna go get him."

He steps away from Rick towards the window.

Rick puts his hand up as if to stroke his face. "Daryl, wait."

Daryl slaps his hands away. "Get your hands off me! You can’t stop me."

"I don’t blame you," Rick began. "He’s family, I get that. I went through Hell to find mine. I know exactly how you feel. He can’t get far with that injury. We could help you check a few blocks around but only if we keep a level head."

They are right up in each other’s face again but this time it’s not so confrontational... as if they're going to kiss.

They don't.

"I could do that."

"Only if we get those guns first," T-Dog cut in. "I’m not strolling the streets of Atlanta with just my good intentions, okay?"

* * *

Now in an office near where Merle made his escape, I'm getting bored very quickly as we attempt to plan.

It's good cardio but _fuck_ is it not worth it and now I'm just scrunching up paper.

"You’re not doing this alone," Rick attempted to comfort Daryl.

"Yeah, there's five of us, leaving only three of us to be the homosexual supporting cast." 

"Even I think it’s a bad idea and I don’t even like you much."

"It’s a good idea, okay, if you just hear me out," Glenn cut in. "If we go out there in a group, we’re slow, drawing attention. If I’m alone, I can move fast. Look."

Glenn has used a marker to draw a diagram of the nearby streets. He indicates a large black paper binder.

"That’s the tank. Five blocks from where we are now."

He drops the wad of paper he took from my hands.

"That’s the bag of guns. Here’s the alley I dragged you into when we first met. That’s where Daryl, Nurse and I will go."

"Why me?" Daryl and I asked in unison.

"Your crossbow is quieter than his gun and _you're_ pretty good with melee."

Glenn uses a tab dispenser to indicate Daryl and a paper clip to indicate me.

"While Daryl waits here in the alley, I run up the street, grab the bag. Y/N can cover me with this-" Glenn picks up a fire extinguisher and hands it to me.

"You got us elsewhere?" Rick asked.

"You and T-Dog, right.  You’ll be in this alley here."

Glenn marks the spot on the map with a pink eraser.

"Two blocks away? Why?"

"I may not be able to come back the same way," Glenn explained. "Walkers might cut me off. If that happens, I won’t go back to Daryl. I’ll go forward instead, all the way around to that alley where you guys are. Whichever direction I go, I got you in both places to cover me.  Afterwards, we’ll all meet back here."

"Hey, kid, what’d you do before all this?" Daryl asked.

"Delivered pizzas, why?" Glenn answered.

Rick nods as if that makes sense as does Daryl.

I just stare incredulously.

_The pizza guy better not teach me anything._

* * *

Glenn climbs down the same ladder he’d gone up with Rick and I when we first met, Daryl behind us putting me in another sandwich. The alley is empty of walkers. Rick and T-Dog get into their position. Glenn, Daryl and I take cover behind a dumpster. Daryl cocks his crossbow.

"You got some balls for a China-man."

"I’m Korean," Glenn corrects.

"Whatever."

_Did not realise racism was genetic._

Daryl loads an arrow while Glenn edges forward into the street with me at his back. He avoids the attention of one walker before he dashes along the street using cars as a cover with me staying far enough back.

 A walker who’d been lurking inside the first car gets out to follow but Glenn manages to sneak past the others in the street. Glenn dives over a barricade.

My attention is snatched by the shouts behind me from the alley.

"Whoa, don’t shoot me! What do you want?" A boy I'd never seen is immediately blocked from my sight by a walker.

I promptly dodge past it and get in closer to the alley, the walker's attention switching to Glenn's footsteps beating against the road.

"I’m looking for my brother. He’s hurt real bad. You seen him?" Daryl asks.

"Ayudame!" the kid yells out.

"Shut up! You’re gonna bring the geeks down on us. Answer me."

I glance back over my shoulder just in time to see as Glenn runs and scoops up the bag of guns and starts off again but goes back for Rick’s Sheriff’s hat before he runs back towards us, the walkers beginning to close in on him.

Back in the alley Daryl still has the crossbow to the kid’s face.

"Answer me," Daryl insists.

"Ayudame!"

His yells for help seem to echo and slowly the walker's attention is drawn back to us, making me clutch tighter onto my weapon.

"Kid, shut the fuck up!"

"Ayudame!"

As close as I can get to the kid, I stop and with only slight hesitation, I hit him in the head.

The kid falls to the ground. Daryl tries to put his hand over the kid’s mouth but he struggles away.

"Shut up. Shut up," Daryl hisses as he muffles the kid's screaming. "Shut up!".

Two strange men come running up on Daryl, rushing past me as if I'm invisible.

The first one stomps on him, knocking him off his feet. The first one keeps kicking him while the second one uses a baseball bat to beat him.

I begin closing in, my extinguisher raised above my head to strike when Glenn runs into the alley sees them beating on Daryl and stops.

The two men see Glenn and I and leave off beating Daryl and run toward Glenn after shoving me into a wall.

"That’s it. That’s the bag, vato. Take it! Take it!"

The first stranger knocks Glenn down and grabs the weapons bag while the second one hits Glenn with the baseball bat.

My head aches now, the sounds clanging against the inside of it like the bells of Notre Dame.

Daryl helps me up quickly after shooting the first stranger in the arse with an arrow, causing the guy to scream.

Daryl fixes another arrow into his crossbow as the second man picks Glenn up who lets go of the weapons bag.

A car approaches and the second stranger uses this to back out of the alley using Glenn as a shield. Whilst he does this the first one limps out ahead of him.

"Get off me! Get off me! Daryl! Nurse! Daryl!"

The first man has forgotten everything except the arrow in his asshole and getting away. He’s the first in the car. Glenn gets pulled into the car as the second stranger takes out a walker. Daryl runs over the injured kid toward Glenn.

Meanwhile I simply limp over to the bag and pull it to me, the hat on top going on my head to at least stop the ringing in my ears.

The car pulls away as Daryl reaches the gate.

"Come back here! You sumbitches!"

The walkers are now attracted to Daryl behind the gate. He pulls it closed. 

Rick and T-Dog come running up from behind, the kid is getting to his feet.

Daryl grabs the kid and slams him up against a wall. Rick gets between them before Daryl can do any more.

"Whoa whoa whoa. Stop it."

"I’m gonna kick your nuts up in your throat!" Daryl growls out.

"Let me go."

T-Dog meanwhile has managed to get to my side and started feeling around the back of my head, pulling away when I hiss.

"They took Glenn. That little bastard and his little bastard homie friends. I’m gonna stomp your ass!"

"Guys! Guys! We’re cut off! And she doesn't look so good," T-Dog interrupts.

All eyes are on me and before I can make a witty remark, Rick grits his teeth.

"Get to the lab," Rick orders. "Go."

T-Dog takes the kid; Rick takes the gun bag whilst Daryl supports me.

"Come on. Damn, let’s go."

Rick grabs his hat from me and once again we're off.

* * *

Back at the lab Rick interrogates the kid. Daryl impatiently paces around the room after having seen to me and declaring I was fine, just had a little bump and gave me Glenn's backpack to lay my head on as I laid on the floor.

"Those men you were with, we need to know where they went."

"I ain’t telling you nothing."

"Jesus, man. What the Hell happened back there?" T-Dog asked. 

"I told you, this little turd and his douche bag friends came out of nowhere and jumped us-"

"Man, you’re the one who jumped me, puto, screaming about trying to find his brother like it’s my damn fault."

"They took Glenn. Could have taken Merle too," I reasoned.

"Merle?" The kid repeated. "What kind of hick name is that? I wouldn’t name my dog Merle."

Daryl tries to take a swing at the kid. Rick holds him off but Daryl still kicks out at him.

"Damn it, Daryl. Back off," I warned, sitting up.

Daryl storms over to me and after I pass him Glenn’s backpack, he pulls out Merle’s bundled hand.

_Oh I forgot that was there when I put my head on it..._

"Want to see what happened to the last guy that pissed me off?" Daryl unwraps Merle’s hand turns around and throws it in the kid’s lap. Horrified the kid jumps up. The hand drops to the floor. Daryl grabs him by the shoulder and neck gets in the kid’s face. "-Start with the feet this time."

"The men you were with took our friend. All we want to do is talk to them, see if we can work something out."

* * *

They’ve brought the kid to the shell of a large brick building. Across what could be a wide alley Rick looks through a ruined window to a set of double wooden doors in a similar brick wall. He shakes a shotgun cartridge which rattles.

"You sure you’re up for this?" Rick asked.

"Yeah," T-Dog replies.

"Okay."

T-Dog picks up the weapons bag and walks off.

"Nurse?" I nod in reply to the unspoken question.

Rick loads a shotgun, passes it to me and loads his own. Daryl has an arrow loaded; the kid sits on the grass between Rick and I.

"One wrong move, you get an arrow in the ass. Just so you know," Daryl threatened casually.

"G’s gonna take that arrow out of my ass and shove it up yours-"

"That's kinky. And unhygienic."

"-Just so  _you_  know."

"G?" Rick asks.

"Guillermo. He the man here," the Kid answers.

"Okay then." Rick cocks gun as he says to Daryl and I, "Let’s go see Guillermo."

"Are we aiming for suicide missions now?"

I was ignored. Again.

* * *

We step through the window and into the alley and across to the shell of a large brick building with no interior and no roof.

Rick pushes the kid into the lead and they walk through the building toward the double doors. Rick scans every opening. He’s on the alert for any threat.

 Rick, Daryl and I stand several feet back from the kid with our guns aimed at him. He stops about fifteen feet in front of the doors.

They open. Several figures stay inside, obscured by the shadows.

One man, slight in build, walks forward. He’s unarmed. "You okay, little man?"

"They’re gonna cut off my feet, Carnal."

"Cops do that?"

"Not him. This redneck _puto_ here. He cut off some dude’s hand, man. He showed it to me."

"Shut up," Daryl snapped.

The guy who Daryl shot in the arse steps forward. "Hey, that’s that vato right there, homes. He shot me in the ass with an arrow. What’s up, homes, huh?" He points a gun at Daryl.

The first guy puts a hand on his arm who I guess is G. "Chill, ese, Chill. Chill." To Rick he asks, This true? He wants Miguelito’s feet? That’s pretty sick, man."

"We were hoping more for a calm discussion," Rick replies.

"That hillbilly jumps Felipe’s little cousin, beats on him, threatens to cut off his feet, Felipe gets an arrow in the ass and you want a calm discussion? You fascinate me."

"Heat of the moment." I shrug. "Mistakes were made on both sides."

"Who’s that dud to you anyway? You don’t look related."

"He’s one of our group, more or less," Rick answers. "I’m sure you have a few like him."

"You got my brother in there?" Daryl cuts in.

"Sorry, we’re fresh out of white boys. But I’ve got an Asian. You interested?" G asked.

"I have one of yours, you have one of mine. Sounds like an even trade," Rick attempted to be the voice of reason.

It didn't work.

"Don’t sound even to me," G stated.

"G. Come on, man," the kid tried to reason.

"My people got attacked," G began. "Where’s the compensation for their pain and suffering? More to the point, where’s my bag of guns?"

"Guns?" Rick echoed as if he had never see one despite the one in his hands.

"The bag Miguel saw in the street. The bag Felipe and Jorge were going back to get. _That_ bag of guns."

"The bag of guns? The guns in the bag? The bag containing guns?"

"You’re mistaken," Rick replied, interrupting my tangent.

"I don’t think so."

"About it being yours. It’s my bag of guns."

"The bag was in the street. Anybody could come around and say it was theirs. I’m supposed to take your word? What’s to stop my people from unloading on you right here and now and I take what’s mine?" G asked.

 **"** You could do that-" Rick looks, drawing my attention, over to where T-Dog is aiming at Guillermo. He’s looking down and in over the top of the building wall. He has Guillermo in his sights. "-Or not."

Guillermo looks up. "Oye."

My gaze is drawn way up to the top of the building behind Guillermo.

Two men lead a man with a bag over his head, hands behind his back, to the edge of the building. One of them removes the bag to show Glenn, his mouth duct taped.

"I see two options. You come back with Miguel and my bag of guns, everybody walks. Or you come back locked and loaded, we’ll see which side spills more blood."

Guillermo and his men back into the building and the doors close. Rick, Daryl, me and the kid back up the way we came.

* * *

Back at the lab, Rick lays out the guns.

"Them guns are worth more than gold. Gold won’t protect your family or put food on the table. You willing to give that up for that kid?"

"If I knew we’d get Glenn back, I might agree. But you think that vato across the way is just gonna hand him over?" T-Dog is the true voice of reason.

"You calling G a liar?" the kid cuts in.

"Are you a part of this?" Daryl slaps Miguelito across the mouth. "You want to hold onto your teeth?"

"Question is do you trust that man’s word?" T-Dog asks.

"No, question is what are you willing to bet on it?" Daryl asked. "Could be more than them guns. Could be your life. Glenn worth that to you?"

"What life I have I owe to him. Same as Rick," I cut in the stupid idiots squabbling. "We were nobody to Glenn, just some idiots stuck in a tank. He could have walked away, but he didn’t. Neither will we."

"So you’re gonna hand the guns over?"

"She didn’t say that." W _ho is she, the cat's mother?_  "There’s nothing keeping you two here. You should get out, head back to camp."

"And tell your family what?" T-Dog asked.

Rick looks at Daryl. Daryl nods and reaches down for a gun.

The kid gets up. "Come on. This is nuts."

Without a word Daryl stops him and points him back to the chair. He sits back down, upset.

Miguelito pleads, "Just do like G says."

The three men don’t pay attention, they continue loading the weapons.

"Why?" I ask. "What are you hiding?"

The kid didn't reply, simply bowed his head with shaking shoulders.

* * *

 

Gagged and with his hands tied behind his back the kid walks back to the double doors. Daryl walks behind him with a gun pointed at his back. Rick and T-Dog, similarly armed, follow close behind with me trailing with a simple handgun.

The doors open, all of G’s men are inside, waiting. Some have handguns, some have baseball bats.

Daryl shoves the kid forward. Daryl, Rick, T-Dog and I enter in behind him. Rick has the weapons bag slung across his back. Several shotguns and rifles poke out.

G comes forward. Rick has a rifle poised to be aimed.

"I see my guns but they’re not all in the bag," G points out.

"That’s because they’re not yours. I thought I mentioned that," Rick replied.

"Let’s just shoot these fools right now, ese. All right? Unload on their asses, ese."

"I don’t think you fully appreciate the gravity of the situation."

"No, I’m pretty clear." Rick cuts the kid’s wrists free, shoves him forward. "You have your man. I want mine."

"I’m gonna chop up your boy," G threatened. "I’m gonna feed him to my dogs. They’re the evilest, nastiest man-eating bitches you ever saw." _Then why aren't they out here?_ "I picked them up from Satan at a yard sale. I told you how it has to be. Are you woefully deaf?"

"No, my hearing’s fine. You said come locked and loaded."

Daryl and T-Dog cock their weapons, the vatos do, too. Rick raises his to G’s head. I hesitate, feeling something's wrong...

"Felipe! Felipe!" An elderly woman walks through the armed men.

"Abuela, go back with the others—now."

"Get that old lady out of the line of fire!" Daryl snapped.

"Abuela, listen to your mijo, okay? This is not the place for you right now-"

"Mr. Gilbert is having trouble breathing. He needs his asthma stuff. Carlito didn’t find it. He needs his medicine."

"Felipe, go take care of it, okay? And take your grandmother with you," G ordered.

" _Abuela, vas conmigo, por favor."_

"Who are those men? And that woman?" She ignores Felipe and walks toward Rick... who's in his Sheriff's uniform.

" _Ah, por favor, vas conmigo."_

She ignored him, turning to Rick. "Don’t you take him."

"Ma’am?"

"Felipe’s a good boy. He have his trouble but he pull himself together. We need him here," the old lady pleaded.

"Ma’am, I’m not here to arrest your grandson."

_It's the middle of the apocalypse and she's worried about her grandson being arrested?_

"Then what do you want him for?" she asked.

"He’s… helping us find a missing person. A fella named Glenn."

"The Asian boy?" she inquires. I nod. "He’s with Mr. Gilbert. Come. Come, I show you. He needs his medicine."

She gestures for Rick to follow her. As she leads him to the back G stands aside. Rick follows Abuela.

"Let ‘em pass," G orders.

Daryl, T-Dog and I follow silently.

* * *

I look into the rooms as I pass and sees elderly people being cared for and not the military base type thing we were expecting.

They walk into a cafeteria. Several people are at tables. A group is huddled around one. Felipe and his grandmother are there.

"All right. All right. Nice and easy. Just breathe."Felipe is talking to an older African American man in a wheelchair. He puts an asthma inhaler in the man’s mouth. "Just breathe. Just let it out. Just breathe."

Glenn's in the crowd and seems happy enough.

"What the Hell is this?" Rick asked, his fists at his sides like the Arthur meme.

"An asthma attack," I explained as Glenn stepped forwards.

"I thought you were being eaten by dogs, man."

Glenn looks behind him where three Chihuahuas sit in a dog basket.

"Could I have a word with you?" Rick storms off with G and I step forwards.

"Anyone need any basic help? Check ups and what not before we go?"

"Who are you?" One of the older women ask.

"Nurse," I reply.

_Might as well put my lie to good use._

What I was not pleased with is when arrow butt stepped forward and dropped his trousers, bending forwards.

_Thank fuck I had got gloves..._

* * *

After a long day, I could use just a simple nap in the van.

"Admit it, you only came back for the hat," I whispered to Rick.

"Don’t tell anybody." He smirked back at me.

"You’ve given away half our guns and ammo."

"Not nearly half," I reasoned.

Daryl ignored me. "For what? Bunch of old farts who are gonna die off momentarily anyhow? Seriously, how long you think they got?"

"How long do any of us?" Rick, pessimist extreme, asks.

We come around an abandoned metro bus and look to where the cube van should be.

"Oh my God."

"Where the Hell’s our van?"

"We left it right there. Who would take it?" Glenn asked.

"...Merle," Rick answered, voice grave.

"He’s gonna be taking some vengeance back to camp."

"Does this mean we're going to have to walk?"

_Yes. Unfortunately the answer is yes._

* * *

Down on the road, we hear guns shots, women and children screaming and general mayhem and we hurry towards them.

* * *

We run into the camp where there are still over a dozen walkers.

With the guns we were given we begin to clear the threats.

When their shotguns are empty they keep killing. Rick with his colt, Daryl with the butt of his gun.

"Baby! Carl! Baby!"

Carl runs over sobbing. "Dad!"

Carl jumps into his dad’s arms. Lori sobs, relieved to see him. Shane watches Rick and Carl. Morales holds his baseball bat ready. Jim walks through the camp. Daryl looks around for more targets. T-Dog, still keyed up, searches for more walkers to kill. Glenn panting and almost hysterical, does the same.

Meanwhile, I pass my own gun to Rick and head over to Andrea's sobbing form, cradling something in her arms.

She holds Amy who lies on the ground bleeding and dying and I kneel at Andrea's side, placing a hand onto her shoulder.

"Shh shh shh. Oh, Amy."

Amy gags on the blood bubbling up her throat.

"I don’t know what to do," Andrea manages to gasp out to me between her sobs.

Unfortunately, I can't do anything and helpless, I simply stare at her sister.

Amy looks like she wants to talk. She puts her hand up to Andrea’s cheek and caresses her sister with her fingertips. She gasps for breath then Amy’s eyes close and she dies.

Andrea pulls her sister closer to her and begins to sob, her sobs on the verge of being howls of pain and in an attempt to comfort her, I circle my arms around her shoulders.

As if my touch shocked her out of it, she turns, horrified to see Amy dead in her arms. Unable to contain herself, her sobs become gut wrenching shrieks as she gently shakes Amy as if to waken her, begging her to comply.

"I remember my dream now, why I dug the holes," Jim stated.

I glare over at him, trying to comfort Andrea at the same time as the staring crowd does nothing.

_Fucking why Jim?_


	8. Spoilers: I Can't (Chapter 7)

All night I sat there with Andrea in silence, waiting for the jump-scare or Amy to be okay... _Yeah, right._

_My legs are numb now._

Lori walked over and kneels beside her on the other side. "Andrea." Andrea doesn’t look up or answer. "I’m so sorry. She’s gone. You got to let us take her. We all cared about her and I promise we’ll be as gentle as we can."

Andrea continues to ignore Lori. As Lori gets up she touches Andrea on the back and leaves her to her sister.

More silence follows and from my pocket I pass her a bit of tissue which she uses to wipe some of the blood away from her sister's face despite the slight drying of it.

"Andrea-" Rick begins.

Andrea whips around shoves her gun in Rick’s face and cocks it.

"I know how the safety works."

_Yeah, he taught you. He was there._

Rick gets very quiet. He puts out a hand and slowly backs away. "All right. Okay.  I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry."

Andrea turns back to Amy and finally I let go, backing off with Rick and telling her to call me if she needs me.

I, of course, almost fell over immediately and if it weren't for Rick my face would have ended up in Amy's corpse.

As Rick and I retreat, Daryl comes over. Side-eyeing the corpse, he finally burst out, "Y’all can’t be serious. Let that girl hamstring us? The dead girl’s a time bomb."

"I mean, I have to agree. Amy could wake up any second but what do you suggest?" I asked.

"Take the shot," Daryl replied. "Clean, in the brain from here. Hell, I can hit a turkey between the eyes from this distance."

"No," Lori objected.  _Where the fuck is your son?_  "For God’s sakes, let her be."

Shane shrugs his eyebrows, Rick shrugs his shoulders.

Daryl scoffs and walks off. Even though he’s cleaning up the corpses he doesn’t pick up the one near the cook fire... probably because it appears to be Jim who is hunched over another body. "Wake up, Jimbo. We’ve got some work to do."

He nods and Daryl drops the pick axe and helps him  _start to pull a corpse to the fire where the walkers are being burned. Glenn notices and walks over to them._

"What are you guys doing? This is for geeks. Our people go over there," Glenn says, pointing to a specific spot.

Daryl shrugs. "What’s the difference? They’re all infected."

"Our people go in that row over there-" his voice cracks as he cries out, "We don’t burn them! We... We bury them. Understand?"

Daryl and Morales start to pick the body back up, dragging it to where Glenn had pointed.

"Our people go in that row over there."

"You reap what you sow," Daryl muttered in a volume that made a stage whisper seem silent.

"You know what? Shut up, man."

"Y’all left my brother for dead," Daryl declared. "You had this coming!"

_But we just went to look for him! Surely we get points for trying?_

He storms off to go pick up his pickaxe and knowing he's be doing a bit of solo work, I turn to Glenn and ask for gloves to help and he points me in Jacqui's direction.

As I approach her, standing over a body,  Jim walks over to help Jacqui with a body.

She looks up at him and asks, "Are you bleeding?"

In hushed voices they communicate, seemingly ignoring my existence until Jacqui straightens up.

"A walker got him. A walker bit Jim," Jacqui called out.

Everyone stops what they are doing and start to gather around. Jacqui backs away from Jim.

"I’m okay." Jim attempts to ward off the crowd like Chris Pratt trying to control his raptors with arms out-stretched and an odd walk. "I’m okay."

"Show it to us," Daryl ordered. "Show it to us."

Jim grabs a shovel to defend himself as Shane walks over, waving it in our directions. Despite this, he claims, "I'm okay."

"Easy, Jim," I attempt to ease him into the situation as Shane begins approaching.

Daryl fucks that up by ordering, "Grab him."

Hearing this, Jim's swing becomes wider and aimed at anyone who tries to come near him causing the others to shout; "Jim, put it down. Put it down!"

T-Dog grabs Jim from behind. Daryl pulls up his t shirt. A huge bite mark is on his stomach. Daryl drops the shirt and T-Dog lets go of Jim.

He’s left by himself as everyone else groups up against him.

"I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay," Jim attempts to reassure those who care.

* * *

Minutes later, after so much convincing on my part, Jim sat still at the rear of the R.V. while everyone else has a conference in a huddle.

"I say we put a pickaxe in his head and the dead girl’s and be done with it," Daryl suggests.

"Oh that's-"

"Is that what you’d want if it were you?" Shane asks.

"Yeah," Daryl answers. "And I’d thank you while you did it."

"I hate to say it-," Dale began. "I never thought I would but maybe Daryl’s right."

"Jim’s not a monster, Dale, or some rabid dog," Rick scolded.

"I mean he is going to turn into one... unless you lot have a cure? No?"

"I’m not suggesting—" Dale began to defend himself.

"He’s sick. A sick man. We start down that road, where do we draw the line?"

"The line’s pretty clear," Daryl replied. "Zero tolerance for walkers. Or them to be."

"What if we can get him help?" Rick asked. "I heard the C.D.C. was working on a cure."

"I heard that too," Shane backed up. "Heard a lot of things before the world went to Hell."

"What if the C.D.C. is still up and running?" Rick asked.

"Man, that is a stretch right there-"

"Ah yes because the one bit of government possibly left that deals with illnesses couldn't possibly be standing, could it?" I asked.

"She's right. I think it’s our best shot. Shelter, protection, rescue—"

"Okay, Rick, you want those things, all right? I do too. Okay? Now if they exist, they’re at the army base. Fort Benning," Shane elaborated.

"That’s a hundred miles in the opposite direction," Lori explained.

"That is right," Shane confirmed. "But it’s away from the hot zone. Now listen to me. If that place is operational, it’ll be heavily armed. We’d be safe there."

"The military were on the front lines of this thing. They got overrun. We’ve all  _seen_ that. The C.D.C. is our best choice and Jim’s only chance."

"You go looking for aspirin; do what you need to do. Someone needs to have some balls to take care of this damn problem!" Daryl moves toward Jim and raises his pick axe.

Rick runs up behind him and puts his cocked revolver to Daryl’s head.

"Oh for fuck's sake! Will you knock it off!"

"We don’t kill the living," Rick growled out.

Shane takes a stand between Daryl and Jim.

Daryl lowers the pick axe after seemingly debating the reality of the situation. "That’s funny coming from a man who just put a gun to my head."

"We may disagree on some things, not on this one. You put it down," Shane ordered. "Go on."

Grunting with the effort, Daryl slams the axe down and walks off. Rick goes over to Jim grabs him by the arm.

"Come with me..."  _I could say 'if you want to live' but there's a fat chance of that happening._

"Where are you taking me?" Jim asked.

"Somewhere safe," Rick answered.

I could only snort.

* * *

Daryl is using the pick axe on more bodies. He’s about to hit Ed Peletier in the head when Carol stops him.

"I’ll do it. He’s my husband." Tears roll down her cheeks and I'm worried if she'll be able to aim.

She takes the axe in both hands. She swings it around, hitting him in the head with all her might, groaning with the weight.

_Never mind, she can aim._

She doesn’t need to, but she hits him again. And a third time just as hard as she did the other two times. She swings faster fourth and fifth time.

Daryl watches but doesn’t say anything or stop her. Then again, neither do I.

She holds the axe and, looking at her husband’s corpse, continues to cry.

_I'm going to back away before she decides to go on a killing spree._

Walking over to Andrea still cradling Amy, I approach slowly as shallow breathing begins to echo from the limp body of Amy.

Andrea puts her head close to Amy’s chest to listen and flicks her gaze to me as if I can reanimate a corpse based on my fake medical experience.

 _Spoilers_ _: I can't. I'm not a necromancer._

Andrea's gaze goes back to her sister who begins to twitch like a stepped on bug, if that bug had hands.

Andrea puts her hand to Amy’s cheek, caressing her.

"Um, Andy. Nice as this isn't..."

I don't get to finish as Amy’s eyes open but like the rest of her, are dead.

"Amy..." Andrea gasps out, hope lighting up in her eyes that is soon shot down when the corpse meets her gaze. Tears well up in her eyes again. "Amy, I’m sorry."

Walker Amy’s hand comes up, reaching, its fingertips caress Andrea’s cheek, slipping up her face.

"I’m sorry for not ever being there. I always thought there’d be more time."

Walker Amy grips Andrea’s hair, yanking on it to pull herself up with a growl.

Andrea holds Walker Amy’s face away and out of danger in a gentle hold that cups her cheeks. The corpse struggles to get at Andrea but I managed to grab onto the thing's shoulders and neck as it whipped it's head around like it was possessed because someone had to be reasonable here.

Andrea, however, did not seem to notice my struggle.

"I’m here now, Amy. I’m here," Andrea reassured her sister with a watery smile.

Out of the corner of my eye I spot Shane and Rick walk forward hesitantly, guns out.

_Yes... Only now come help. Thank you two so much. You're so helpful..._

"I love you," Andrea whispers to her sister as she puts her head to Amy’s and her gun behind Amy’s ear and pulls the trigger, a gunshot ringing out in the camp.

Amy falls dead once more.

Andrea tenderly caresses Amy’s cheek and face, lovingly staring at her sister. _Someone clearly has not learnt their lesson about caressing zombies._

_Not to ruin the moment but you would be deaf after that._

Meanwhile, I had fallen to the ground clutching my ears as the world began ringing.

* * *

After recovering, I joined Carol in cooling Jim off with a wet cloth on his forehead as the fever haunted him, making the RV seem so much hotter than it should be even with the hot weather outside.

And because of the heat, I was sweating like a simmering church so Carol had lent me some jeans, a tank top and a flannel shirt that were clean.

The door opens, then the intruders knock and Rick and Lori enter.

"His fever is worse."  _Translation: He won't make it._

"You need anything?" Lori asked.

"Uh… water," Jim replied. "Could use more water."

"I’ll get some. Carol, you help me?" Lori asked.

Carol nodded, standing and taking the bundle of clothes I had given her for laundry. I'd kept my bra because it would be more often than I wash it usually.

Once they had left, Rick sits down across from Jim, joining me at my side.

"You save a grave for me?" Jim asked, voice raspy.

"Nobody wants that." 

_Daryl does._

"It’s not about what you want. That, uh—that sound you hear, that’s God laughing while you make plans."

"What I want, Jim, if—If God allows, is to get you some help," Rick stated.

Jim groans, coughing. Knowing what this would be, I picked up the plastic bag and held it out for him to spit into.

After he rolled back, he groaned and inhaled deeply.

"Watch the mangroves," Jim warns with all the wisdom of a man who had drunk an entire liquor store. "Their roots will gouge the whole boat. You know that, right? Amy is there swimming." To Rick he asks, "You’ll watch the boat, right? You said you would."

"I’ll watch the boat. Don’t worry."

"Okay." Jim closes his eyes and settles back.

Rick rubs his hand over his face, deep in thought.

* * *

That night, I had been kicked out of the tent that was apparently Daryl's that Glenn had pointed me to and so I watched over Jim.

Sunrise the next morning, I joined Rick on the hilltop to watch Atlanta in the distance as he talks to Morgan on the walkie-talkie.

"We’re moving out, leaving the quarry. If you heard me yesterday, you may be coming here. If you are, we’ll be gone by the time you arrive. I’m leaving a note and map behind for you taped to a red car so you can follow our trail. We’re heading to the C.D.C. If there’s anything left, it’s got to be there, don’t you think? Morgan… I hope you were right about that place. I need you to be."

"Tell him to live long and prosper," I chimed in.

Rick sighed before complying.

* * *

Shane had gathered all of us outside the RV Jim was in once we had returned from being kings of the hill. "Everybody listen up. Those of you with C.B.s, we’re gonna be on Channel 40. Let’s keep the chatter down, okay? Now you got a problem, don’t have a C.B., can’t get a signal or anything at all, you’re gonna hit your horn one time. That’ll stop the caravan. Any questions?"

"Yeah one, who died and made you king?"

I was ignored.

Morales spoke up, "We’re, uh…we’re—we’re not going."

"We have family in Birmingham," his wife Eliza spoke up. "We want to be with our people."

"You go, you’re on your own," Shane warned. "You won’t have anyone to watch your back."

"We’ll take the chance. I got to do what’s best for my family."

"You sure?" Rick asked.

"We talked about it. We’re sure."

"All right."

".357?" Rick asked.

"Yeah. Box is half full."

Rick and Shane hand Morales a .357 Magnum and half a box of ammo. Daryl scoffs as if he can’t believe it.

"Thank you all… for everything."

Lori gives Eliza a hug as she starts sobbing.

Morales and Shane shake hands as he bids, "Good luck, man."

Lori kisses the Morales boy and girl good bye.

The Morales girl hugs Sophia as they bid farewell.

The Morales’ daughter gives Sophia her doll. Both girls cry.

"Channel 40 if you change your minds. All right?" Rick asked.

Carol hugs Sophia to her in an attempt to comfort her daughter.

"What makes you think our odds are any better? Come on. Let’s go. Let’s move out," Shane orders.

* * *

Before we all got into our respective vehicles, I had taped a sign on a red car for Morgan that reads “Morgan- Going to C.D.C. This area not safe – Sheriff Rick and Nurse Y/N.”

The RV with Jim and Jacqui tending to him, Dale and Glenn leads.

Behind them,  Rick drives Carol’s Jeep Cherokee. She sits in the back with Sophia and Carl. Lori is up front with Rick.

Shane is behind, alone in his open jeep.  Andrea is in the church bus with T-Dog. Back in the R.V., Jacqui continues helping Jim as I was bid to sleep.

Daryl follows in a pickup, a motorcycle strapped down in the truck bed with me at his side.

As begin the drive, I use my bag as a pillow and curl up and pass out.

* * *

I'm woken up by Daryl nudging me in the side and opening my door, almost making me fall out of it.

Together we venture outside to where the RV was being fiddled with and Rick begins to explain Jim's last requests.

"It’s what he says he wants."

"And he’s lucid?" Carol asked.

"He seems to be. I would say yes."

"Back in the camp when I said Daryl might be right and you shut me down, you misunderstood," Dale began.  _For fuck's sake mate, we all forgot about this. Just move on._ "I would never go along with callously killing a man. I was just gonna suggest that we ask Jim what he wants and I think we have an answer."

"We just leave him here?" Shane asked. "We take off? Man, I’m not sure I could live with that."

"It’s not your call, either one of you," Lori retorted.

* * *

Partway up a hill just off the road Rick and Shane let Jim down to the ground and settle his back against a tree as he groans, a wheeze whistling in the slight breeze.

"Hey, another damn tree," Jim remarked, chuckling.

"Hey, Jim—I mean, you know it doesn’t need to be this," Shane offered.

"No. it’s good. The breeze feels nice."

Shane just nodded.

Jacqui comes over and kneels beside him. "Just close your eyes, Sweetie. Don’t fight."

Crying, she kisses him on the cheek and goes back down the hill. Rick comes forward and kneels as well.

"Jim, do you want this?" Rick offers him a pistol.

"No. you’ll need it. I’m okay. I’m okay."

Rick walks back down and Dale kneels by Jim. "Oh, hey."

"Thanks for, uh, for fighting for us."

"Okay." Jim's breath becomes uneven, his chest heaving.

Neither Glenn nor Andrea says anything but they are visibly moved. Everyone but Daryl and I walks away.

"You're a nurse, right?" Jim asked. "Can I ask you something?"

I could only nod, not in the mood to lying to a dying man. I have some ethics.

"What's... What's dying like?"

I could think of nothing to comfort him or nothing in me to offer him the truth. Instead I only replied, "It's as easy as falling asleep and even easier when you know there's someone you'll see again."

He nods and I take this as my sign to go.

I return to Daryl's side, hoping he has some words of wisdom.

Jim and Daryl look at each other, Daryl nods respectfully and we head back to the car.

As the cars pass, we look up at Jim one last time and it's my last sight before I go back to sleep, haunted by his face and his green hat.

* * *

The vehicles are parked in the street along the front of the CDC building when I'm nudged awake again by Daryl and instructed to get out and stay close.

_This place has more bodies than a rave. And it could rival the smell._

There are corpses everywhere, both military and civilians. Sand bag barricades had been constructed to reinforce security at the entrance. They are still in place but the corpses litter the street in front and behind the barricades.

"All right, everybody. Keep moving. Go on. Stay quiet. Let’s go," Shane whispers his orders.

Covering my mouth like the others,  the group makes our way toward the C.D.C. doors.

"Okay, keep moving. Stay together. Keep moving. Come on," Shane urges, barely covering his mouth.

Rick shushes him.

"Carol-" Lori begins.

Rick shushes again.

We walk past the entrance and up through a parking lot. Tanks and more barriers are positioned around the entrance. Corpses lie everywhere.

* * *

Outside we get closer to the doors as everyone tries not to retch.

"Keep it together. Come on," Shane urges.

"We’re almost there, baby. Almost there," Lori urges... someone.

Rick tries the roll down security door to no avail.

Shane pushes against it, pounding on the door.

"There’s nobody here," Shane states.

"Then why are these shutters down?" I asked.

"Walkers!" Daryl hisses at me from my left side.

"They're called zombies you uneducated fuck!"

"Baby, come on." Lori begins to urge Carl back to the cars, following Carol's lead.

They stop at the sight of a zombie crawling forward but Daryl takes it out with an arrow.

"You led us into a graveyard!"

"He made a call," Dale attempted to defend Rick's stupid decisions to Daryl.

"It was the wrong damn call!"

"Just shut up. You hear me? Shut up. Shut up!" Shane ordered aggressively. "Rick this is a dead end."

"Where we gonna go?" Carol asked, her arms locked tightly around her daughter to keep her close.

"She’s right. We can’t be here, this close to the city after dark," Lori backed up Carol.

"Fort Benning, Rick—still an option," Shane offered.

"On what?" Andrea asked.  _Oh I have not missed your voice._  "No food, no fuel. That’s a hundred miles."

"125," Glenn corrected. "I checked the map."

"Forget Fort Benning. We need answers  _tonight.  Now."_ _I need more than you Lori._

"We’ll think of something," Rick stated.

"Let’s get out of here."

"Let’s go. Please," T-Dog pleaded.

Carl and Sophia are crying. People start back toward the cars.

Before I turn back, I hear whirring above and look at the camera to see it had moved slightly.

"All right, everybody back to the cars. Let’s go. Move," Shane ordered.

I could hear everyone else comply, hurrying but I stayed at Rick's side despite Daryl's urging to move.

"The camera—it moved."

"You saw it too?" I asked.

"You imagined it," Daryl attempted to explain. "Now move."

"It moved," Rick insisted.

"Rick, it is dead, man. It’s an automated device. It’s gears, okay? They’re just winding down. Now come on."

Rick refused to move, still staring up at the camera and even I was starting to look at the occasional twitch it made, shrugging away Daryl's attempts to pull me away.

"Man, just listen to me. Look around this place. It’s dead, okay? It’s dead. You need to let it go, Rick. Rick, there’s nobody there."

Rick fights past Shane and beats on the door. "I know you’re in there. I know you can hear me."

"Everybody get back to the cars now!" Shane warned.

Daryl once again tried to move me but I refused. "Not without Rick!"

Rick ignored everyone. "Please, we’re desperate. Please help us. We have women, children, no food, hardly any gas left."

Lori runs up to Rick."Rick, there’s nobody here."

"We have nowhere else to go." Rick began to pound on the door.

"Keep your eyes open," Shane warned her and sent her back to her son who she had left behind at the cars.

"If you don’t let us in, you’re killing us!"

"Please!" I beg with whoever is behind the camera or whatever AI is behind it.

"Come on, buddy, let’s go." Shane began to drag Rick away from the door whilst I began to walk back at a leisurely pace. "Let’s go."

"Oh well, we tried..."

"Please help us," Rick pleads with the camera and then like a drama queen begins to shout, "You’re killing us! You're killing us! You're killing us!"

Shane drags Rick away from the door just as it rolls up, blinding light beaming out from inside the C.D.C. and everyone turns around.

Something clanged behind us and gas hissed as if someone had turned on the hob to burn down the building and those within.


	9. End Of Season One And I'm Done (Chapter 8)

"Fuck, is it bright."

The open doorway has the light of God showering and blinding us.

"Daryl, you cover the back," Shane ordered as we edged forward into the open doorway.

"Hello? Hello?" Rick calls out into the surprisingly not very creepy medical place.

"Close those doors," Daryl orders. "Watch for walkers."

We enter and looks around at the lobby. It’s completely empty.

"Hello?" Rick asked only to get a gun cocking in response.

A man in a lab coat. is standing in a doorway, a rifle in his hands. "Anybody infected?"

"One of our group was," Rick replied. "He didn’t make it."

"Why are you here? What do you want?

"A chance."

I rolled my eyes at Rick's words. He could just say shelter but  _no._

"That’s asking an awful lot these days."

"I know."

Jenner looks at every one with an assessing eye before stating, "You all submit to a blood test. That’s the price of admission."

"We can do that," Rick answered in response.

Jenner lowers his weapon. "You got stuff to bring in, you do it now. Once this door closes it stays closed."

* * *

Bags all grabbed, we follow Jenner back in to the building and an elevator in response.

"VI, seal the main entrance. Kill the power up here," the doctor orders as the elevator rattles and clangs as we move up.

"Rick Grimes." He puts his hand out for Jenner to shake.

Jenner looks away.  _There goes that bromance._ "Dr. Edwin Jenner."

 _I'm never going to be able to escape the Kardashian clan, am I?_  "What like the guy that cured smallpox?" I asked.

"Are you a doctor?" Jenner asked.

"Nurse," Rick replied for me.

After an awkward silence, Daryl came through. "Doctors always go around packing heat like that?"

Jenner simply shrugged. "There were plenty left lying around. I familiarised myself. But you look harmless enough. Except you," Jenner smiles at Carl. "I’ll have to keep my eye on you."

Carl smiles back at the doctor who chuckles.

When he looks away the smile on his face dies, reflected in the metal of the elevator.

When the elevator opened, we all stepped out and Jenner began to lead us down a hallway.

"Are we underground?" Carol asked, looking around uncomfortably.

"Are you claustrophobic?" the doctor asked in response.

"A little," Carol admitted.

"Try not to think about it."

* * *

Soon we enter a large darkened space where the doctor orders, "VI, bring up the lights in the big room."

As the lights flick on to reveal rows of computers like in a space station, Jenner announces, "Welcome to Zone 5."

"Where is everybody? The other doctors, the staff?" Rick asked.

"I’m it. It’s just me here."

"What about the person you were speaking with? VI?" Lori asked.

"VI, say hello to our guests. Tell them… Welcome," Jenner ordered the ceiling.

"Hello, guests. Welcome," a computer system's voice echoed.

_Oh God, it's HAL 9000. That's why there's no more doctors._

"I’m all that’s left. I’m sorry."

* * *

The syringe clicked for a final time out of Andrea's arm, the last of us to have our blood drawn, and Jenner announced, "All done."

As she stands Andrea starts to black out. Jacqui catches her.

"Are you okay?"

Andrea simply groaned.

"She hasn’t eaten in days," Jacqui informed the doctor. "None of us have."

_Guilt. Nothing better to get free food._

* * *

Soon after that, Jenner had shown us to the kitchen and attached dining room where the women migrated and cooked pasta and I found some wine.

When they finished with the pasta, and me with tasting the wine, we were all seated around a large round table eating, drinking and laughing.

_What could possibly go wrong?_

"You know, in Italy, children have a little bit of wine with dinner. And in France," Dale shared as he poured Lori a glass of wine.

"Well, when Carl is in Italy or France, he can have some then," Lori said being a responsible parent, covering the glass set before Carl.

"What’s it gonna hurt?" Rick asked. "Come on. Come on."

Dale pours some wine, a half inch, into the now uncovered glass. "There you are, young lad."

Everyone watches as he takes a sip, his face twisting up in disgust to everyone else's delight.

"That’s my boy. That’s my boy. Good boy." Lori pours his wine into her glass.

"Yuck. That tastes nasty."

"Well, just stick to soda pop there, bud," Shane advised.

"Not you, Glenn," Daryl slurred at the guy simply turning the beer bottle in his hand.

"What?"

"Keep drinking, little man. I want to see how red your face can get."

Rick looks over to the doctor, drawing my attention to him as well, who seems isolated and it's clear that Jenner isn’t enjoying the party.

Rick takes his fork and taps his glass. Once everyone's attention is on him he announces, "It seems to me we haven’t thanked our host properly."

"He is more than just our host," T-Dog remarked.

"Hear hear!" Dale cheered.

"Here’s to you, Doc, booyah!" Daryl chimed in.

"Booyah!"

"Thank you," Rick said. "Thank you, Doctor."

"Booyah!" T-Dog echoed.

The toast done, we clinked glasses with whoever sat next to us, or beer bottles. A comfortable silence formed as people began to sip at their drinks, eat their meal and simply relax in the comfort of it all - almost forgetting that zombies were right outside the door.

Then Shane had to ruin it.

"So when are you gonna tell us what the Hell happened here, Doc? All the—the other doctors that were supposed to be figuring out what happened, where are they?"

"We’re celebrating, Shane. Don’t need to do this now," Rick admonished quietly.

"Whoa, wait a second. This is why we’re here, right? This was your move—supposed to find all the answers. Instead we- we found him. Found one man, why?" Shane inquired.

Jenner hesitated before replying, "Well, when things got bad, a lot of people just left, went off to be with their families. And when things got worse, when the military cordon got overrun, the rest bolted."

"Every last one?"

"No, many couldn’t face walking out the door. They… _opted out._ There was a rash of suicides. That was a bad time."

"You didn’t leave. Why?" Andrea asked, joining in on the bandwagon of asking tense questions.

"I just kept working, hoping to... do some good," Jenner stated and went silent, his eyes downcast as he stared at his still full plate.

"Dude, you are such a buzz kill, man," Glenn hissed at Shane as he moved to sit down at the table.

In an uncomfortable silence that weighed on us, we began to either eat or simply stare at our plates.

* * *

With the meal done, thank God, Jenner began to show us around the rest of the living area.

"Most of the facility is powered down including housing so you’ll have to make do here. The couches are comfortable, but there are cots in storage if you like. There’s a rec room down the hall that you kids might enjoy. Just don’t plug in the video games, okay? Or anything that draws power. The same applies—if you shower, go easy on the hot water."

"Hot water?" Glenn echoes.

"That’s what the man said," T-Dog crows.

* * *

I let the warm water rush over my body after stepping in, blocking out the world now even though with my naked ass out, I should be more aware than ever.

_It's so nice to be safe but even being safe, it's not as comfortable.  
_

_God, the last time I felt this comfortable was at home..._

_Home..._

Biting back a sob, I try to take my mind off of it by weighing up the pros and cons of having a wank.

* * *

What felt like only minutes later, I stepped out of the shower only to run into Rick.

"You coming to see the doctor?" Rick asked.

"I've got to dry off and change but I'll see you in a bit, maybe. It's been a while since I've managed to grab anything to read and I'd rather grab what I can when I can before we move on again."

So I let Rick go and waited to dry and then change before heading to the rec room Jenner pointed out earlier.

* * *

Upon finding the rec room, I hesitated upon seeing Carol and Sophia in there and stayed in the corridor.

"It’s a real miracle, isn’t it?" Carol taps Sophia on the nose then leads them out into the hall that leads to their bedrooms.

Yet I was only viewing this from behind Shane who was peering in and watching Lori. _For an ex-police officer, he wasn't very observant._

Shane slams the door against the wall, startling Lori.

Spotting Shane, she placed a hand onto her chest and sighed. "Jesus, you scared me."

"I’m gonna tell you a few things and you’re gonna listen to me," Shane demanded with all the arrogance being a white man in America could afford him.

"Now is not the time." She tries to ignore Shane by reading the cover of the book in her hand.

"Come on. When is it ever the time?" Shane still has the whiskey bottle.

Lori gives up trying to ignore in and instead goes to leave.

"How can you treat me like this?" Shane complained, blocking Lori’s way to the door.

"You’re kidding, right?"  _Why does that ring a bell for me?_

"No. Huh-uh."

"Because you told me my husband was dead," Lori snapped, walking around him into the corridor I was in.

"Jesus, Lori. I didn’t lie to you, all right? I didn’t. Do you know what it was like there? Huh?" As he talks he walks past Lori. Before she can walk out the open door he pulls it closed and I can't see anything anymore. "Stop. Things were falling apart. They were slaughtering people in the hallways. It was a massacre. There were walkers everywhere."

"So you left him?" Lori asked, accusation in her voice along with fear.

"Everybody else ran. There were no doctors there. It was just me. He was hooked up to machines and I did not know what to do. I even took my ear and I put it on his chest and I listened for a heartbeat and I did not hear one. And I-I-I-I—I don’t know why. Maybe it was gunfire. I don’t know what it was, but there was no way he could’ve survived that. No way."

Shane bangs the door in frustration and I'm genuinely scared for the woman behind the door.

"He did."

"Yeah, but then I had y’all to think about, didn’t I?"

The door creaks as the weight of the two people is removed. Taking this as my chance, I push the door open and creep inside.

"I had you and Carl, and I needed to think about—" Shane stated, crowding Lori into the table across the room.

"Okay. No no."

"I had to get you guys safe to Atlanta. That’s what I had to do. Just stop."

Lori tries to get up but he pushes her back again.

"If you thought for one second that he was still alive, would you have come? So I saved your life—you and your little boy’s. That’s what I did. Right?"

Lori, speechless, shakes her head.

"And if I could’ve traded places with him, I would have. I would trade places with him right now because—"

"No no no. No." It's all she can say and I'm unarmed and helpless to help her.

"No no no. You—  I love you. Shh shh."

"No. No. You’re drunk."

Out of the corner of my eye I see the bottle abandoned on the floor and creep closer, picking it up.

"I love you," Shane insisted.

"No, you’re drunk," Lori repeated.

"And I know there were some things that say that you love me, too. Because there’s no way that you could’ve been with me the way that you were."

Shane keeps pushing in closer and closer. He holds her chin with his hand to keep her from looking away. Lori keeps trying to fight him off.

"Shane. Shane. Shane!"

"Just—Okay, Stop. Listen. You love me," Shane slurred.

"Get your hands off me. Get your hands off me!"

He reaches down between her legs still slurring, "I love you. There’s nobody here-"

"You're wrong about that." Raising the now abandoned whiskey bottle, I aimed it over his head before bringing it down.

When his body doesn't immediately slump, I do it again and watch as his body collapses to the floor like Goliath when he got fucked up by David.

Lori didn't react for a second, staring at his sprawled form, before hunching over and sobbing into her palms, her book abandoned on the floor.

I check his pulse before I do anything else, ascertaining that he's still alive before I drop the shattered glass that's pierced my hand and yet not Shane's head and hurry over to her.

"It'll be all right. Okay?" I pull her close and shush her, not wanting to sraw Carol away from her daughter. "But I need you to be honest here, okay? If you've had any sort of relations or whatever... I need you to tell me or someone you trust and stay away from him. Okay?"

She could only sob and nod.

* * *

It may have been hours later but I had managed to drag Shane's fat ass out into the corridor and threw him a pillow from the couch after making sure Lori was in bed.

I was in the middle of cleaning up the shattered glass when Rick came in.

Before he could ask, I simply pointed at Shane. "Guy went a bit heavy handed on the drink and dropped it. I'll leave you to it. Goodnight."

I left soon after that in search of a medical box or the doctor.

* * *

"Hey, Doctor Edwin?" I called out into the control station once I reached it, cradling my hurt hand. "Do you have any tweezers and antiseptic?"

Rummaging was all I could hear before he appeared before me with the items in hand.

He gestured for me to sit down and I did so, stretching out my hand when he lifted up the tweezers and began to pull out bits of glass.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about your results."

"Okay. If I'm dying, I don't want to know."

"No, it's not that," the doctor replied. "Your blood... It's irregularities are small yet so substantial. It's amazing."

"Yeah, I can explain that," I admitted. "See, in my world, this is all a TV programme based on a comic. You aren't real. I am. I got pulled through my TV and now I'm here."

A silence formed between us until he finished pulling out all the small pieces of blood glass and then began to wrap it. Clearly not a medical doctor as he began to wrap it clumsily.

"If your abnormalities were genetic or even dietary based then we could use that to create a cure. But since you're an outlier, I suppose we can't base anything upon it."

I looked at my now wrapped hand. "If that's all..."

"Yes. Thank you. Hopefully your hand feels better." Edwin turned back to the computers and I took this as my cue to go.

Then I hurried off to the room I had left my bag in to flop down onto an empty bed.

* * *

The next morning I was woken up by a knock on the door and so I slumped out of bed, my hand hurting but my back not for the first time in a while and followed the smell of cooking until I came across the kitchen and dining room once more.

As I stepped into the room, I said, "If we have any more of that wine, I'll take some."

"...It's breakfast," Lori said.

"You're a nurse! Shouldn't you know the health benefits of breakfast?" T-Dog asked.

"And whatever you're serving then," I agreed to and sat down in an empty seat between the collapsed form of Glenn and Daryl.

Rick entered soon after, stumbling into a seat next to his son on the opposite side of the table.

"Morning," Dale greeted back.

"Are you hung over?" Carl asked his father. "Mom said you’d be."

"Mom is right."

"Mom has that annoying habit." Lori seemed much more comfortable than she had last night, with good reason.

"Eggs," T-Dog tells Rick. "Powdered, but—but I do ‘em  _good._ "Glenn moans in response. "I bet you can’t tell."

Dale laughs at Glenn’s misery and T-Dog’s teasing. Jacqui rubs Glenn’s shoulders from the left of him.

T-Dog dishes out the eggs to all, including Glenn who was hunched over, groaning. "Protein helps the hangover."

Rick holds up a bottle of aspirin next to Glenn's elbow, asking, "Where’d all this come from?"

"Jenner," Lori answered.

"Could you help me, please?"

Lori opens the bottle for Rick, explaining, "He thought we could use it-"

"Thank you."

"-Some of us, at least." Despite the gaze at Glenn, her gaze flicked over to my bandaged hand.

"Don’t ever ever ever let me drink again," Glenn whined to Jacqui.

"Drinking may be the only good thing we have left... for some of us anyway," I stated, watching Shane enter the room.

"Hey."

"Hey. Feel as bad as I do?" Rick asked, unaware of his wife's tense form.

Shane walks to the table where the coffee pot and cups are answering, "Worse."

T-Dog's gaze was caught on something on the back of Shane's head. "What the Hell happened to you? The back of your head? Nurse, you want to check him for somethin'?"

Lori eats her food and doesn’t look up.

"I'll look later," I offer as Jenner enters the room to be greeted by everyone.

"Doctor, I don’t mean to slam you with questions first thing—" Dale began cautiously.

"-But you will anyway," Jenner finished.

"We didn’t come here for the eggs," Andrea stated as if this was news to the rest of us.

* * *

Jenner leads everyone into the big room ordering the computer as he walked towards his station, "Give me a playback of TS-19."

"Playback of TS-19," budget JARVIS echoed as the oversized screen began to fill with blue information and scans of the brain from various angles.

"Few people ever got a chance to see this. Very few," Jenner stated.

"Is that a brain?" Carl asked.

"An extraordinary one," he answered before muttering, "Not that it matters anyhow." Clearing his throat, he ordered, "Take us in for E.I.V."

"Enhanced internal view," the system announced.

The main screen changes to show the upper shoulders and head of the subject. The screen skews to a horizontal view then increases the magnification. The image becomes more and more detailed. The magnification shows the Inside the skull. It appears to be lit with bright blue threads of energy. Some areas are denser with light than others but there are lighted threads throughout the skull. The detail zooms in until the threads become closer and pulses of light can be distinguished.

"What are those lights?" Shane asked.

"It’s a person’s life—experiences, memories. It’s everything. Somewhere in all that organic wiring, all those ripples of light, is you—the thing that makes you unique and human."

"You don’t make sense, ever?" Daryl said.

_That didn't even make sense._

"Those are synapses," Edwin informed him, pointing the screen. "Electric impulses in the brain that carry all the messages. They determine everything a person says does or thinks from the moment of birth to the moment of death."

"Death? That’s what this is, a vigil?" Rick asked.

"Yes. Or rather the playback of the vigil..." Edwin replied, his voice sad.

"This person died?" Andrea uselessly asked. "Who?"

"Test subject 19. Someone who was bitten and infected… and volunteered to have us record the process. VI, Scan forward to the first event."

"Scanning to first event."

The screen shows a message; 'Scanning Forward'. The brain has lights still flickering in the outer areas but the centre has become dark as if black roots are growing inside.

"What is that?"

"It invades the brain like meningitis. The adrenal glands haemorrhage, the brain goes into shutdown, then the major organs. Then death. Everything you ever were or ever will be…gone."

Sophia turned to her mother to ask, "Is that what happened to Jim?"

A nod is her only reply from Andrea who begins to tear up.

"She lost somebody two days ago. Her sister," Lori informs Jenner.

"I lost somebody too. I know how devastating it is." All humanity and empathy was gone as he turned back to the computer and ordered, "Scan to the second event."

"Scanning to second event."

"The resurrection times vary wildly. We had reports of it happening in as little as three minutes. The longest we heard of was eight hours. In the case of this patient, it was two hours, one minute… seven seconds."

A red glow flickers at the base of the brain. The rest remains dark. Random sparks shoot out into the larger area of the brain but no further lights grow.

"It restarts the brain?" Lori asked.

"No, just the brain stem. Basically it gets them up and moving-"

"-But they’re not alive?" Rick finished.

Jenner simply gestured to the monitor. "You tell me."

"Okay, one; you're the one who specialises in this," I began. "Why are you asking a majority of non scientifically inclined people. Two; that's more of an ethical question than anything and not really relevant, is it? Three; you must have sucked at your job if you can't give a better answer than that."

Jenner turned away, looking at the screen. "It's filled with darkness. Specifically; the frontal lobe, the neocortex, the human part—that doesn’t come back. The  _you_  part.  Just a shell driven by mindless instinct."

The subject moves, its mouth opens and closes. The head moves side to side, the shoulders move as if the arms were being lifted. The barrel of a gun appears at the forehead pointing down. A bullet enters the brain and tears through the red cluster of embers. The brain goes completely dark, the subject stops moving.

"God. What was that?"

"He shot his patient in the head. Didn’t you?" Andrea asked.

_Well done Captain Obvious._

"VI, Power down the main screen and the workstations," Jenner ordered, not answering Andrea's question because she should have been able to infer like the rest of us.

"Powering down main screen and workstations," the machine echoed.

"You have no idea what it is, do you?" Andrea asked. "It's just like Y/N said, you can't give a better answer, can you?"

"It could be microbial, viral, parasitic, fungal-" Jenner began to list.

"Or genetic-" I offered.

"Or the wrath of God?" Jacqui asked.

_Oh for fuck's sake._

"...There is that."

"Somebody must know something. Somebody somewhere," Andrea said.

"There are others, right? Other facilities?" Carol asked.

"There may be some. People like me."

"But you don’t know?" Rick asked. "How can you not know?"

"Everything went down," Jenner admitted. "Communications, directives—all of it. I’ve been in the dark for almost a month."

"So it’s not just here. There’s nothing left anywhere? Nothing? That’s what you’re really saying, right?"

"Jesus," Jacqui whispered.

"Man, I’m gonna get shitfaced drunk again," Daryl said.

"Finally, we agree with something," I replied.

Dale ignored us. "Dr. Jenner, I know this has been taxing for you and I hate to ask one more question, but…that clock—it’s counting down. What happens at zero?"

"The basement generators—they run out of fuel."

"And then?"

Jenner ignores the question and walks out of the big room.

"VI, what happens when the power runs out?" Rick asked the AI.

"When the power runs out, facility-wide decontamination will occur."

* * *

I had gone back to bed whilst they sorted out the generators and was woken up by the air getting thicker and harder to swallow.

Ignoring Daryl in the bed opposite, I grabbed my bag from the floor where his crossbow was.

My chest heaving to breathe, I stumbled out to see Dale is out in the hall, Lori is, too. Jenner walks out a door and down the hall past them.

"Why is the air off?" I asked.

"And the lights in our room?" Lori asked.

Daryl sticks his head out of the room I had been in, liquor bottle still in his hand. "What’s going on? Why is everything turned off?"

Jenner takes the whiskey bottle from Daryl without slowing down. "Energy use is being prioritised."

"Air isn’t a priority? And lights?" Dale asked.

"Lights aren't for the blind," I reasoned.

Jenner drinks straight from the bottle, swigging the liquid before stating, "It’s not up to me. Zone 5 is shutting itself down."

"Hey! Hey, what the Hell does that mean?" Daryl shouted after the doctor.

Jenner keeps walking, everyone follows.

"Hey, man, I’m talking to you. What do you mean it’s shutting itself down? How can a building do anything?"

Rick, T-Dog, Glenn and Shane come running to join us.

"You’d be surprised," Jenner answered.

Lori calls for her husband.

He motions her to wait. Jenner walks down the stairs past Rick and the others and up the steps to the big room.

"Doctor Edwin, what’s happening?"

"The system is dropping all the nonessential uses of power. It’s designed to keep the computers running to the last possible second. That started as we approached the half-hour mark. Right on schedule." Jenner takes another drink from the bottle. He pauses at the steps that lead up to the work stations in the big room. Everyone has followed and is grouped around. Jenner hands the bottle to Daryl who angrily snatches it out of Jenner’s hand.

"It was the French."  _It's always the French._  "They were the last ones to hold out as far as I know. While our people were bolting out the doors and committing suicide in the hallways, they stayed in the labs till the end. They thought they were close to a solution and until a few hours ago... so did I."

"What happened?" Jacqui asked.

"The same thing that’s happening here. No power grid. Ran out of juice. The world runs on fossil fuel.  I mean, how stupid is that?"

"Let me tell you—" Shane began.

"To Hell with it, Shane," Rick interrupted. "I don’t even care. Lori, grab our things. Everybody, get your stuff. We’re getting out of here  _now!"_

"What’s that?" Carl and Shane asked as alarms began blaring.

"30 minutes to decontamination," Robby the Robot called out.

"Doctor Edwin, what's going on here?" I asked.

Jenner scans his badge and enters code into a security pad.

"Get your stuff and let’s go! Go now! Go!" Rick ordered, running toward a security door that is sliding up to block the way back out of the C.D.C.

"No. Did you just lock us in?" Glenn asked in a panic. "He just locked us in!"

Jenner broadcasts on the monitor, declaring, "We’ve hit the 30-minute window. I’m recording."

Daryl makes a run at Jenner roaring, "You son of a bitch! You locked us in here!"

"No, stop! Don’t!" T-Dog exclaims.

"You lying—"

Daryl tries to take Jenner but Shane and Rick pull him off.

"Wait! No! No, don’t do it."

Rick holds Daryl back even as he threatens Jenner with the bottle.

"Hey, Jenner, open that door now," Rick orders.

"There’s no point. Everything topside is locked down. The emergency exits are sealed."

"Well, open the damn things," Dale insisted.

"That’s not something I control. The computers do. I told you once that front door closed, it wouldn’t open again. You heard me say that. It’s better this way."

"What is? What happens in 28 minutes?" Edwin ignored him. "What happens in 28 minutes?!" Rick insisted.

"Come on!" Daryl urged.

"You know what this place is?!" Jenner finally snapped. "We protected the public from very nasty stuff! Weaponized smallpox! Ebola strains that could wipe out half the country! Stuff you don’t want getting out! Ever!"

Jenner collects himself and slumps into his seat at his station. "In the event of a catastrophic power failure—in a terrorist attack, for example—H.I.T.s are deployed to prevent any organisms from getting out."

"H.I.T.s?" I asked.

"VI, define," Jenner ordered.

"H.I.T.s—high-impulse thermo baric fuel-air explosives consist of a two-stage aerosol ignition that produces a blast wave of significantly greater power and duration than any other known explosive except nuclear. The vacuum-pressure effect ignites the oxygen at between 5,000 degrees and 6,000 degrees and is useful when the greatest loss of life and damage to structures is desired-"

"-it sets the air on fire. No pain," Jenner elaborated.

Carol holds Sophia tight, both sobbing and Daryl is let go in shock.

"An end to sorrow, grief…regret. Everything."

Daryl throws the liquor bottle at the door. "Open the damn door!"

Shane runs at the door with a fire axe. T-Dog tosses one to Daryl. He catches it and they both try to destroy the door.

"You should’ve left well enough alone it would have been so much easier."

"Easier for who?" Lori asked.

"All of you. You know what’s out there. A short brutal life and an agonising death." Jenner turned to Andrea and asked, "Your—your sister—what was her name?"

"Amy"

"Amy," he echoed. "You know what this does. You’ve seen it." He turned to Rick to ask, "Is that what you really want for your wife and son?"

"I don’t want  _this!"_

"Can’t make a dent," Shane called over.

"Those doors are designed to withstand a rocket launcher," Jenner explained.

Daryl launched himself at the doctor again. "Well, your head ain’t!"

Dale, Rick and Shane all hold Daryl back with T-Dog taking the axe away from Daryl.

"You  _do_  want this. Last night you said you knew it was just a matter of time before everybody you loved was dead."

"What? You really said that? After all your big talk?" Shane asked, a shocked face amongst a sea.

"I had to keep hope alive, didn’t I?" Rick admits.

"There is no hope. There never was," Jenner states.

"There’s always hope. Maybe it won’t be you, maybe not here but somebody somewhere—"

"What part of “Everything is gone” do you not understand?" Andrea asked.

"Listen to your friend. She gets it. This is what takes us down. This is our extinction event."

"This isn’t right. You can’t just keep us here," Carol gasped out.

"One tiny moment—a millisecond. No pain," Jenner explained.

"My daughter doesn’t deserve to die like  _this."_

"Wouldn’t it be kinder, more compassionate just to hold your loved ones and wait for the clock to run down?" Jenner inquired.

Shane has come back with his shotgun, although I hadn't realised he had gone.

Rick tries to intercept Shane but Shane pushes him away.

"Out of the way, Rick!  Stay out of my way! Open that door or I’m gonna blow your head off. Do you hear me?" Shane has his shotgun in Jenner’s face.

"Brother, brother, this is not the way you do this," Rick attempted to convince him. "We will never get out of here."

"Shane, you listen to him," Lori orders.

"He dies, we all—"

Shane points the gun at Jenner’s face then, yelling, he shifts his aim to a computer monitor and shoots again and again, screaming all the time.

Rick struggles to take the gun away from Shane. He hits Shane across the head with the butt and throws an elbow into Shane’s shoulder who grunts and falls.

Rick runs at him. He feints with the shotgun butt, ready to hit him again to keep him down.

Panting, Rick asked, "Are you done now? Are you done?"

 _"_ Yeah, I guess we all are."

Rick hands the gun to T-Dog. Everyone is looking to Rick. He looks around. Calmly he assesses all that’s happened.

"I think you’re lying," I state.

"What?"

"You’re lying about no hope," Rick begins. "If that were true, you’d have bolted with the rest or taken the easy way out. You didn’t. You chose the hard path. Why?"

"It doesn’t matter."

"It does matter. It always matters. You stayed when others ran. Why?" Rick inquired.

"Not because I wanted to. I made a promise-" Jenner points at the screen. "To her. My wife."

"Test subject 19 was your wife?" Lori inquired.

"She begged me to keep going as long as I could. How could I say no?" Daryl begins to use the axe on the door but I'm more focused on Jenner. "She was dying. It should’ve been me on that table. I wouldn’t have mattered to anybody. She was a loss to the  _world_.  Hell, she ran this place. I just worked here. In our field she was an  _Einstein._ Me? I’m just… Edwin Jenner. She could’ve done something about this. Not me."

"Your wife didn’t have a choice," Rick stated. "You do. That’s—that’s all we want—a choice, a chance."

Daryl still kept trying.

"I told you topside’s locked down. I can’t open those." Jenner walks back to the security pad and unlocks the door Daryl has been beating on.

When the doors open everyone rushes to leave. Well... almost everyone.

"Come on, let’s go!" Daryl urged as he ran out of the room with most of the group behind him except me, Rick, Andrea, Dale, Shane, Glenn, T-Dog or Jacqui.

"There’s your chance, take it."

"I’m grateful," Rick says.

"The day will come when you won’t be." Jenner takes Rick’s hand to shake it and Jenner pulls Rick in close.

_Hey little mama let me whisper in your ear~_

Lori runs back and drags Rick out.

Before I can follow, Jenner turns to me, pulling me close like he had with Rick.

"The day will come when you watch them die and you will wish you had stayed here because whatever is coming for you, will be far worse."

_Maybe he's right. Maybe I should-_

It's Glenn who drags me away from that thought track. "Hey, we’ve got four minutes left! Come on!"

T-Dog is attempting to lead Jacqui out. "Let’s go. Let’s go."

"No no. I’m staying. I’m staying, sweetie."

"But that’s insane!"

"No, it’s completely sane," Jacqui began. "For the first time in the long time. I’m not ending up like Jim and Amy. There’s no time to argue. And no point, not if you want to get out. Just get out. Get out." Jacqui pushes T-Dog away and despite his bigger size compared to her frail form, he stumbled away.

"Dog, come on, man. Come on! Let’s go! Let’s go!" Shane urged, taking his arm and leading him up the ramp.

Looking back to see Dale staring at Jacqui, I decide it's time to leave them to their decisions.

"Just go! Go!" Dale shouts up the stairs, staying in the room with his gaze leveled on Andrea.

Together, we began to run up to the ground level to get out.

* * *

Up in the lobby T-Dog and Daryl run for the doors, banging against them.

"Get them doors open!" Glenn orders.

After nothing working, T-Dog tries the electronic security pad beside the door. "Try it! Try it! Try it now!"

"Daryl!"

Daryl tosses the axe to Shane. They both start hitting the glass but it doesn’t break.

"Stay close, sweetheart," Carol urged her daughter.

T-Dog makes a run at the window with a chair, only warning, "Daryl, look out!"

The chair doesn’t work. Shane loads his shotgun. "Dog, get down! Get down!"

Shane fires a round at the glass. It barely makes a dent.

"The glass won’t break?" Sophia asked.

Carol reaches in her bag for something. "Rick, I have something that might help."

"Carol, I don’t think a nail file’s gonna do it," Shane postulated.

Carol rightfully ignored him. "Your first morning at camp, when I washed your uniform I found this in your pocket." Carol pulls out the grenade Rick had picked up in the tank in Atlanta. She gives it to him and takes Sophia away toward the back of the lobby.

Everyone but Rick takes cover, falling to the floor, while he removes the pin and puts the grenade on the window sill. Terrified at what he’s just done he leaps back and away as quickly as he can.

"Get down!" Daryl shouts to Rick.

Only the window nearest to the grenade shatters but it’s big enough for us to escape through, filing out over broken glass and sprinting past zombies to get back to the truck.

Shane and Rick shoot down some walkers that are in their path. Daryl takes one’s head off with his axe.

Finally we reach the truck and Daryl and I clamber in. He begins to fiddle around to get it started and I watch out of the window as Andrea and Dale jump down out of the building and begin sprinting towards us.

Someone honks their horn and Lori must have wound down her window as she shouts out, "Dale, get down! Down!"

"Get back! Everybody down! Down!" Rick shouts out as well.

Dale and Andrea take shelter behind the sand bag cordon out by the guard shack.

Daryl and I duck down in our seats, squishing me between the rock-hard seat and my bag as a huge roar of fire bursts from the C.D.C building fills the air, whipping the cars down wind with heat.

Suddenly, the air begins to cool and I begin to clamber up onto my seat.

Daryl exhales heavily next to me, drawing my attention to the destruction of the CDC.

The five cars turn around and drive back up the road they’d come down on.

Leaning on the glass, I watch the black smoke column rise from the burning CDC building and can only think one thing;

_What a fucking waste of time that was. Why did we bother?_


	10. Forest Shit (Chapter 9)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait!

Days later, we'd managed to settle into a routine that helped soothe the discourse caused by the whole situation that once again, no one mentioned (or the other situation when we went back to see all of the old people at the Vatos hideout and the place had been overrun.)

Each day, I would get up from my cramped space where I had been stretched in the back of Daryl's truck, kicking Daryl to wake up as I unlocked the door and got out.

Then I would take a small bottle of water and a small bit of soap, washing the essential PTA:

Pits. Tits. Ass.

Also my hands because if you've just washed your ass when there's no toilet paper, should have hoarded it, you need the hygiene.

After washing, I just got on with other chores like washing clothes, sitting with the children and either just watching them play as everyone did their own chores or began to teach them things, or even just going back into the tent and prodding Daryl with my foot so he woke up.

Rick still continued to sit on the hill, talking into his walkie talkie in the hopes that Morgan would listen or even Duane.

_I wonder if my phone's run out of battery yet..._

"RICK MOVE YOUR ASS!" I shout up the hill, not really a hill but a higher mound of dirt so he could brood in peace, at him. "WE GOTTA GO!"

Rick doesn't move.

Grumpily, I begin to march up the hill to reach him into time to hear Rick sigh into the walkie talkie.

"Be careful out there, Morgan. I hope you and Duane are okay. Stay off the road. Keep moving. Keep your eyes open. I don't know, just... Just be safe. Maybe we'll see you in Fort Benning someday. Rick signing off."

* * *

With my arms wrapped around Daryl's waist clinging on for dear life, we sped before the rest of the group to weave through the cars on the graveyard of a motorway.

Something blew behind us and Daryl stopped, swerving the bike until we were slanted enough to get off and park it.

"Problem Dale?" Daryl asked as we walked up to the rest of the group who had stopped, peeking at the steaming van. He soon began to rummage through the back of a van whilst I enjoyed the feeling of gravel under my feet.

"Oh, just the small matter of being stuck in the middle of nowhere with no hope of- okay, that was dumb," Dale conceded.

"If you can't find a radiator hose here..." Shane trailed off, glancing at the kids who gazed on worriedly.

"There's a whole bunch of stuff we can find," Daryl stated. To prove his point he gestured to his finds in the car's boot.

"I can siphon more fuel from these cars for a start," T-Dog offered.

"Maybe some water," Carol suggested.

"Or food." Glenn clutched his stomach.

"Or medicine or just medical supplies like floss. Feminine hygiene products will come in handy," I added.

"This is a graveyard," Lori piped up because someone had to be negative. "I don't know how I feel about this..." Her voice was soft but even with the noise from the van we were able to hear her as clearly as we all could recognise it wasn't a great idea to venture between the cars.

Most people avoided her gaze which scanned the cars, alert for any sign of danger.

"Come on, y'all. Just look around, gather what you can," Shane ordered.

So we set off.

* * *

The search kept us all close together except the few fucks who wandered off like Daryl and T-Dog or Dale who stayed by the van with Andrea.

In my search I had found probably more of the pads, tampons and even condoms with lube than I could ever hope for unless I was a prostitute. Clothes weren't hard to find but I was saving space in my bag for medical shit so I passed a pile to Lori and Carol.

Sorting through, the two kept themselves busy whilst keeping an eye on the kid as I kept scanning for anything else.

Checking back, I watched as Carol held a red dress against herself, smiling fondly as she stroked the fabric of the skirt. "Ed never let me wear nice things like this."

"Yeah because he was a cun-"

Lori placed a hand over my mouth before interrupting kindly, "We're gonna need clothes."

Carol smiled wider and tucked the dress into a bag she had picked up.

"Hey, Carl. Always within my sight, okay? You too, Sophia," Lori called out, suddenly noticing the children were not at their side.

_Mother of the year award goes to-_

"Hey, nurse!" Glenn called from the next car over, pulling something from the depths of the car's backseat. "Catch!"

I didn't bother catching it or attempting to, wide as it went. Instead I picked up the small tool from the ground.

"Pocket knife?" I asked, flipping the small tool over in my hand as I stood.

"May come in handy," Glenn offered, "Worse comes to worse, you cut yourself or someone else free."

"There's only so many times you can use a screwdriver," Rick remarked before I could protest further and with a shrug I slipped it into the backpack, making sure it sat on top of something so it wouldn't fall into it's depths.

Glenn had moved to the back of the car, opening the trunk. Popping the hood, he let out a joyous cry which grabbed others' attention. "Were we short on water?" he declared, stepping aside to reveal the packs of water still in the plastic casing.

"Save me some! It's like being baptized, man," Theo called as I stepped forwards, already swinging my bag off for Glenn to slip some in.

Soon enough I had stepped away, putting it back on and noticing the added weight.

I also noticed that there were zombies coming closer.

"Rick!" I hissed out of the corner of my mouth, moving towards where Carol and Lori were with the kids.

Slowly, he turned to see the things groaning and coming closer.

"Oh, Christ!" Rick swore before ordering, "Lori, under the cars. Carl, Sophia, get down now."

Carl had his own car but seemed relatively calm whilst I was panicking, under a car with Lori and Carol like sardines packed into a tin. Instead we gazed helplessly at little Sophia clutching her bear under the car across.

Every few seconds, another pair of legs stomped past or simply dragged along the ground, blocking the vision of young Sophia.

Then suddenly there were no more zombies, just an eerie silence left in their wake.

Sophia began to crawl out from under her car, reaching for her mother.

Yet another zombie had been on his way.

It stopped between Sophia and Carl's car, it's bending down to peer at the young girl causing it to creak like an old leather sofa.

Next to me Lori clapped a hand over Carol's mouth, shushing her as she began to whimper in fear for her daughter.

As the girl screamed, she tried to scoot away from the  _thing's_  reach.

At this point even I had to clap a hand over Carol's mouth with Lori holding her right arm down.

Sophia managed to evade the zombie's grasp by crawling out of the other side under the vehicle and running off the highway.

With my bag on still, I slipped away from Carol despite her and Lori reaching out for me and I begin to chase after her with Rick hot on my heels.

Luckily I manage to avoid tripping down the hill like Rick does by taking smaller steps that are more cautious but take me more time to get to the bottom.

When I do reach it, Rick has scrambled up and together we race through the close trees until he mum-seat-belts me, slamming an arm into my chest to stop me.

Before I can do anything, he shushes me silently and points out the flash of blue running past followed by two walkers.

With a nod we agreed to race right, veering out of the zombie's course.

* * *

Rounding a tree, we manage to catch up to Sophia who had tripped on the uneven ground. As she stood to run further, Rick caught her and began to shush her.

Kneeling, Rick asked in a whisper, "Are you alright?"

Overcome with emotion began to cry out, reaching for the gun on Rick's belt, Sophia began to claw at Rick who held her away from the weapon.

"No!" Rick hissed as he admonished her.

"Those walkers from the road will hear and catch up," I added.

Rick twitched before scooping a still-panting Sophia up into his arms and once again we were off through the woods.

The brambles and leaves ripping through my hair, catching on my clothes and the slight breeze slashing at my skin, I managed to keep pace behind Rick with shitty weapon available, clenched in a tight grasp.

Suddenly, Rick stopped, dropping Sophia to the side.

Smacking into his back, I managed to send him falling into the river below.

Recovering quickly, the man stood once more and reached for the girl. Picking her back up again, he took off.

I jumped in the water after them and followed them to the roots tangled over the river that lead to a small alcove in the mud bank.

"You have to do _exactly_ as I say," Rick warned the girl once he let her down. "Hide in there! I'll draw them away from you."

Sophia began to protest, a death grip on her doll.

Rick shushed her once more. "Listen, they don't get winded but we do. We'll deal with them one at a time but I need to protect you." He clutched onto her cheeks, whispering, "This is how we survive, you understand?"

"Sophia I'll stay with you," I promised. At Rick's look I pointed out, "I'll just slow you down and the group needs you."

Sophia nodded and Rick began to usher us both into the hollow of the roots, our trousers and sock soaked as we stood still huddling together.

"Take care of her, okay?" Rick wiped his face." You run back to the highway, back to the others, first chance you get, you hear me? Just remember, straight the way we came and keep the sun on your left shoulder."

A raspy growl sent Rick slowly backing away in the water, his back taut as he moved.

As the noises of the undead grew louder, I held onto Sophia tightly as she burrowed her face into my torso, watching Rick back away some more before splashing the water.

"COME ON!"

One of the things leapt into the water, landing on their hands and knees and slowly, Rick's voice began to fade.

* * *

It had been a long time before Sophia let go of me, though not completely as she clutched onto my non-dominant hand, and slowly we moved through the depths of the river.

Already it was getting too dark to see where we were and there were no obvious clues because all of the surrounding area was just trees, leaves and other forest shit.

_That reminds me... Not that I need to shit but neither Sophia or I have eaten in a while._

A small tug on my sleeve made me turn my head to look at Sophia, quelling the urge to stab the small child who had remained quiet as the grave, save a few whimpers.

"You hungry?"

She nodded.

Spotting a tree with roots that opened like the legs of an inexperienced slut, bending at the knees, I ushered her towards it and sat her down between them. She was so small that the top of the roots would cover her head from the side.

Kneeling in the dirt, wet jeans squelching as I did, I swung my back pack off and placed it on my knees to save it from the murky depths of the mud. Opening it, I rifled through until I found a bottle of water and some left over chocolate that I had been hoarding.

With a reluctant sigh, I handed it over to the young girl who watched it hover before her before gently taking it then devouring ravenously.

I heard my stomach growl.

I sighed, trying to ignore it, and settled in next to Sophia, smiling for her sake as I curled an arm around her, feeling her yawn as she laid against me.

Seeing as it was night, we wouldn't be able to move far in the dark without tripping everywhere and alerting every walker to us.

So, I sat still until Sophia fell asleep, wishing for my phone.

* * *

The next day I wished I had grabbed some others clothes because the bottom of the trousers I wore and my socks were still damp, clinging to the leg hair growing back.

Not even able to do my PTA, I shared a bottle of water with the little girl and even some more food, a granola bar in the bag (one of the last but I couldn't tell her that) before we began to venture off.

One green and white tent we came across already reeked badly of death but it was the best we would be able to have, covering our natural scent at least so Sophia could nap quickly whilst I stuffed the bag with all of the clothes I could carry, not touching the dead man in the chair.

_I will never complain about the gym again... At least not the smell._

My sense of direction was clearly failing me as by the sun being in a high enough point that I began to sweat like a simmering church, I wasn't recognizing anything and neither was Sophia. Perhaps this was the end-

I felt something tug me back and I gazed at the young girl clutching onto my hand.

Like a deer caught in headlights, Sophia had frozen.

The next second, she had let go and disappeared through the bushes.

"Sophia!" I called after her, deciding against better judgement to just fuck off because if she heard a noise we are both dead-

Emerging through the bushes, I wondered at the scene before me as Sophia had stopped in the middle of a muddy clearing staring at something on the ground.

A body laid against a tree and barely moved. With one hand removed, a pus-sy wound on the end, I would have assumed from the grime and general wound would have killed him.

Then suddenly, his eyes cracked open and he gasped out, "Sophia?"


	11. YouTube Tutorials Needed (Chapter 10)

"Merle?"

He didn't even twitch in response to my voice and Sophia didn't seem inclined to move from where she had almost leapt back to clamp onto my hand so I decided to  _really_ look at him.

Deep bruises clung to the space under the eyelids that had cracked open to reveal unfocused eyes, the pupils blown despite the sunlight not really reached the dark canopy we were under. Bolts of red in them flared in the few specks of sunlight that highlighted the burnt top of his head and the putrid blackened colour of a small cut on his brow. Dried snot from his nose dribbled onto the bow of his top lip almost the same yellow as his pussy arm wound.

Nothing on Earth could have prepared me for how lifeless this man appeared now. If eyes were the windows to the soul, either he had had blinds fitted or he had been robbed as void as they appeared. His skin hung off of his skeleton, the bones in his face poking through like a phantom of the man he once was. Merle's whole frame seemed to hang from the bark it laid upon like a puppet propped up on a shelf, legs splayed wide.

"Merle?" I raised my voice slightly, careful to keep it low for fear of the monsters that lurked.

A groan of pain rumbles through his frame, a shiver rolling down his spine as his glazed over eyes scrolled from the doll he was looking at, barely settling on my form before landing back on Sophia who clutched onto my hand tighter in response.

"Sophia..." Merle licked his cracked lips as if to wet his hoarse throat as well. "Where's ya mom?"

She didn't respond, staring at him frightened.

"I as'ed ya a question, where's your mom?" he inquired.

"I don't... don't know."

His lucidness soon disappeared and he nodded before letting out a sigh as he leaned back against the tree, his arm twitching and fluid dripping from it in response.

"Okay we have got to move you somewhere more secure before I can even think about looking at you properly-"  _Not to mention the fact I do not have any kind of insurance or education beyond how to undo a plaster._

My attention was caught by the grunt that Merle let out as he shifted his right hip to reveal the shine of metal in his pocket.

"You found a car?"

"Jeep," he grunted as he shifted the hip again to offer me the keys.

"Where is it?" I inquired, not bothering to take them if the jeep was nowhere near.

"By the... hous," he managed to gasp out, tensing as if a bolt of pain had hit him.

"Merle, stay with me, but where is the house?" I fell to my knees in the mud, the squelch greeting me. Clasping my hands on his shoulders, I lightly shook him to catch his attention minding how hot his skin was under my fingers - feverish.

No visible bites on him make me consider how hard cold turkey is taking him.

"Near the... near the town," he rasped.

"Very helpful Merle because I clearly have a GPS and a map! Oh wait, I don't!" I snapped. I sighed soon after, letting my hands fall away into my lap. "I'm sorry for snapping, I'm just a bit tired."

Dropping my bag, Ishuffled over to his good side, I wrapped the full arm around my neck before turning to him once more.

"Merle? On the count of 3, I'm gonna need you to stand up okay?" He nodded, almost comical with how loosely it wobbled. "Sophia, I'm going to need you to carry my bag. Put your doll in there if you need to."

* * *

The light had begun to fade when Merle stopped us, swaying as he pointed out the house in the eerily quiet clearing, void of groans from both the dead and the living trees.

Relief hit me as easily as the fresh air, clear of the thick air that squeezed itself between the trees.

Checking the surrounding area for any threat and finding none, we proceed on to the fairly nice white house before reaching the porch, barely questioning the well-mowed grass.

The ajar door pushed itself open as a light breeze pushed it and gratefully we clambered inside before Sophia closed it behind us again.

In the entryway, I peeked into the larger sitting room on the left but chose the plusher looking sofa in the room on the right and lead Merle to lay on it, pushing the musty pale yellow blanket and striped pillows to the floor. Standing up, I pulled the curtains to because no matter how fucking dark it was, I wasn't going to lead someone here if I could find a candle.

I sent Sophia to search for a bowl, which she promptly returned with before asking, "Okay, kiddo, fancy helping me out here again before a quick nap?"

A small 'yes' was my answer and I gratefully smiled at the young girl who placed my bag down onto the floor near Merle's head.

"Sophia I need you to check the cupboards for anything that looks like medicine." Noticing how woozy she looked I added, _"_ And find yourself something to eat."

She nodded and darted out of the room, her shuffling through the house the only sound that distracted me from retching at the sight of little white things in Merle's stump. Cauterized as it was, it was still able to get infected.

A small dresser sat behind the clay-coloured sofa so I left Merle to search it. Luckily the person who had lived here must have been a lonely tailor from the 1920s or Eddie Gluskin as the lone drawer under the desk top was filled with sewing supplies and amongst them a packet of matches, thin cigarettes and even a candle.

Pulling the drawer out, I dumped all but the candle and matches on the floor which I had safely deposited on the desk top.

Stepping over the mess, I took the drawer and turned it upside down onto the floor until it laid by Merle's outstretched stump. Retrieving the candle and matches, I lit it quickly - tipping it after a few seconds so it would stick when I placed it down - so I could see clearly what I was doing.

His cauterized arm was alright but he must have caught it on something a while back. It wasn't infected as I first thought but it definitely wasn't clean.

Taking a bottle of water from my bag and the salt, I pour a small portion of both into the bowl Sophia had gotten me.

Settling Merle's stump in it, I watch as he winces and becomes lucid once more.

"So, where did you get the keys?" I ask, washing Merle's stump and using my knuckles to push away any build up.

"Met a taco- OW!" I poured a bit more salt into his wound, recognizing the word.

"Watch your mouth before I sew it shut, Merle," I warned.

"Wha'ever. What was left o' him was sat _righ'_ by the jeep. Took 'em right outta his pocket."  _Positively grim._

Taking the stump out, I wipe it on the flannel shirt's edge before picking up a spool of pink thread, a spool of red thread and a needle. Threading the needle with the pink thread (after licking it and prodding the air near the hole before finally getting it), I brace my hand on the stump before stabbing it with the needle.

Merle barely winces.

I stitch as tightly as I can, humming something from the Hamilton soundtrack as I do, looping the thread through the skin.

Finally finishing, I take the red thread and lie it besides the pink. Using both lines, I make a loop and tie together twice before cutting the thread with my teeth.

Withdrawing, I fall to my back and lay staring at the ceiling.

A small can of sardines was thrust up under my nose as I turned to Sophia which I kindly rejected (the smell of fish and the sight of maggots was too close to a dock yard for me to feel comfortable). Humming slightly, she dragged her doll to the wooden chair behind me and curled up in it.

Rolling over, I pull one of the pillows from the floor and the blanket up with me as I stand shakily, exhaustion eating at me, a constant gnaw it seems these days. Shaking them, I watch the flecks of dust fall to the ground softly before passing them to Sophia who gratefully curls herself up in them.

The other pillow I put beneath Merle's head, feeling him shiver and goosebumps rise under his neck as I do.

With his head propped up, I give him a few sips of water from one of the bottles in the bag, taking a grateful gulp for myself, before returning it to the bag.

Leaning down to blow the candle out, I'm stopped by the small call of my name, drowsy as someone delving into sleep can be.

"Y/N... Do you think we're gonna find my mom?"

Not really knowing what to say, I eventually resolve myself to promise, "I'll do my best to get you safe, Sophia."

Satisfied, she curls up around her doll and I take this to blow out the candle.

Plopping myself back down, careful to move out of the way of Merle's mouth in case he's sick in the night, I lean my head against the sofa cushions and watch the door with the pocket knife clutched tight between my white knuckled grasp and only the night to keep me company.


	12. It's The End of The World, Why Not Dress Well? (Chapter 11)

Strong light heated my shoulder where my shirt must have slipped in my sleep to the point that if I didn't move, I might be cooked.

Sleepily, I sat up and took in the room now that it was being lit up by the retina-burning daylight that revealed all - even the dust floating in the streams of light.

The sofa behind me stank of sweat that still left the imprint of Merle's body pressed into the fabric like he had lived there for weeks. Sophia's doll was tucked into the folds of the blanket which had been folded over the sweat stain, a colourful blob in the dreadfully dull furniture.

The pocket knife was no longer in the living room, just like neither of the other two occupants were here.

Without a weapon in sight, I was defenseless and alone. Not the best thing to be right now.

I slowly levered myself up from the floor, avoiding the wet patches on the sofa as I used it to grapple, rolling my shoulders from the ache of sleeping on a bag and a wooden floor.

The ache would probably cause me irritation later but if wandering the woods with a kid and a hick weren't going to make me irritated anyway, the apocalypse would have been too easy.

Thankfully for the splitting headache that rivaled the result of being bashed over the head with a sledgehammer wielded by Thor or the sort of hangover where I seem to have ended up ass over tits with my head near a puddle of piss that looks like someone was drinking lizards, the floor didn't creak as I made my way through the living room, kicking my bag behind the sofa, before making my way out into the hall.

The front door was still closed, both the wind cover and the inner door, however I could hear the creaking of the back door with the wind, and decided it was easier to check the room opposite.

After a few minutes of scavenging, I realised I might as well not have bothered. Besides a few extra sewing equipment such as tailor's chalk, clothes in the progress of being made hidden in piles behind the door, and a few handkerchiefs monogrammed with the letter G, there was nothing to it.

_Let's see, creepy thin stairs that could lead to my death by window like Tommen or a kitchen worse than Ramsay's worst nightmare..._

_Tommen's flopping class it is._

The stairs creaked under my feet, each step I took up them, as I kept a tight grip on the railing so I don't sink into the steps once they break.

Yet somehow I managed to make it to the top, only to realise I now had three choices judging by the smell; old mothballs for a bedroom, sewage for a bathroom, and rotting meat for the room of my apparent murder.

Spotting the small hammer on a drawer by the top of the stairs gave me more courage to approach the rotting meat room and with it raised, I managed to shove the door open-

Only to have a massive fuck off raccoon race past my legs, down the stairs and out of the house by the sounds of things.

"Fu...dge. That really burst my bubble."  _Gotta get into the habit of not swearing around a kid._

I let the hammer drop to my side as I gazed around the room which was mostly barren besides more clothing, some kind of rack that I'm not sure isn't for weird kinky wood sex stuff, and whatever small thing the raccoon must have been eating.

Whoever E.G was, they were clearly talented judging by the old-fashioned clothes, mainly women's with a few pieces of large men's wear, but I wasn't going to risk any more time on the room and it's possible inhabitants lurking in the rafters of the small room so I grabbed the largest pile of clothes and tugged it out of the room, leaving it on the landing as I closed the door shut before the wind could slam it.

With my back to the door, I gazed at the two doors next to each other across the landing without deciding where to go.

_Mothballs or someone shitting themselves past death. Possible dead grandmother or someone rolling in shit..._

"Eeny, meeny, miny, moe, catch a zombie-"

Something groaned from behind me as if to finish the rhyme for me.

Without hesitating, I raised the hammer and drove it into the fucker's head, feeling the splash of blood soak me up to my wrist, the woman's once white dress now splattered with more than the blood that had been long dry from the wounds highlighting how bound she was to the corner - out of sight and in the shadows.

On the floor it groaned it's last before finally being silenced by my foot stomping on it's face.

Shaking my foot free from the thing's face, I step back and try to feel my own pulse because it seems to have stopped.

_Oh, okay, I am going to die of a heart attack and I'm not even going to get to enjoy the food that usually comes with it._

_Now, does that window open and can I get her through it?_

* * *

Back downstairs, I had decided it was time to see to the piles of clothing from the room upstairs and I had began to sort them into clothes we could wear, clothes we should leave because they seemed to be of either worth or because I fear crazy murderous tailors because they have access to more than barbers do, and clothes that could be turned into scraps.

Heavy footsteps bounding up steps approached the back door, drew me to stand and pick the hammer back up (now wiped free of blood just like my hand - courtesy of tissue and spit because I was not venturing past where the body had been after having to heave the hefty bitch up and out the window only to have to grab a large stick from outside to poke the bitch off of the roof), and I slowly approached the backdoor.

The footsteps slowly approached and I kept my arm raised, not willing to peer around the door-

"Y/N!"

With a sigh I tossed the hammer onto the sofa and stepped out to greet Sophia, followed by Merle.

His right shoulder brushed against the door like he was expecting to be able to walk through it, clumsily jerking away when it banged against the door.

Deciding that if he was going to be the twat that got a splinter that infected his one good arm, I wasn't going to bother, I turned my attentions back to Sophia's wide grin.

She was fine if a little flushed from the heat, or the streaks of red berry juice surrounding her mouth. Clutched in her hands was a large empty plastic bag that crinkled as she clenched on tighter, raising the bag higher to give to me.

Once I took it, she ran back to Merle and took a cloth bundle whilst he fucked around with not swearing and taking off his boots with no hands.

Diving past me, Sophia plopped herself down onto the floor and I followed in after her, pushing a few piles of clothes out of her way before she barreled over them, to see what she had brought.

The cloth Sophia plopped down onto the makeshift table of my bag was heavy with juices, staining the white cloth a deep red. If not for the fresh smell, I may have been reminded of the thing slung out of the window.

It was only as Merle reached the doorway, I realised Sophia had been animatedly babbling. "...And later we're gonna catch rabbits!"

"You can skin 'em," Merle added as he marched over to lay back in his sweat.

"Sorry what?"

Ignoring my disgust, Merle simply nudged a pile of dresses with his holy sock-covered foot. "Where'd ya get these frilly things?"

"Upstairs," I replied, reaching over to Sophia's opened bundle to take a few berries, the juice staining my fingers as I snarked, "Not all of us want to dress like we're going to kill Bambi's mother but homeless. Plus, it beats getting athlete's foot or smelling worse than..."

I popped the berries into my mouth, chewing them thoughtfully before taking some more and offering them to Merle who refused silently, his spare hand scratching at the sofa where the thread was revealing the stuffing inside.

I chewed a few more berries listening to Sophia talk about her morning adventure in the woods before wiping my hand on my jeans and declaring to our group of misfits, "I suppose since we can all clearly walk a distance, we'll head out."

* * *

"Just a quick warning: I have no sense of direction so we all need to stay together," I confessed.

Merle snorted, stretching his arms out as we walked deeper into the woods. Or out. I can not tell. The trees are all mostly green so they look the same. "I coulda told you that when you made us walk past the same fuckin' tree twice."

"No swearing around the kid. And I thought I saw someone!"

"Yeah the geek ya shoved out the window. How ya managed only God knows."

I grit my teeth to stop me swearing back at him if only for Sophia. "Merle you are really grinding my gears here."

"Maybe ya shoulda just stayed with ya frills in the kitchen-"

_I've had enough._

Swinging around, I jab Merle in the throat quickly, the force sending him almost to his knees. "Now you listen to me. Yes, I can cook and I'm probably less capable than you at fighting or whatever but let's get one thing straight - you don't have to care for colour of skin, gender, or whatever, but you better buck your ideas up-"

"Or what?" His snarl was that of a wounded animal.

"Or else you'll find I'm much less forgiving than just leaving you on a rooftop to rot."

Merle's jaw clenched before he forced himself up, storming ahead to catch up to Sophia who was happily skipping along.

 _Holy shit. I am so fucking stupid. I_   _am going to be buried in these woods murdered by the same white guy people warned me about._

* * *

We arrived in silence to where Merle said the jeep must have been and it was a ghost town except the ghosts still inhabited the bodies and were more irritating.

Walking past Shrugg's Hardware and The Carriage Bar on the main street, I kept Sophia between Merle and I, and far away from the actual windows. A road sat between those and the next two shops in the small town. A small gift shop sat next to the pharmacy proudly declaring itself as the property of Steve.

_Okay but who names their pharmacy after themselves. I want to know all about the life of Steve the Pharmacist who ran Steve's Pharmacy._

In the window written in rushed marker on a carboard sign was 'TAKE WHAT YOU NEED AND GOD BLESS'.

I was brought out of my thoughts by Merle stopping and ordering, "You two take the pharmacy and I'll take find the jeep-"

"Nope. We stick together. There's only three of us and I don't trust our chances as a smaller group much less alone. As handicappable as you are Merle, I don't think you alone could take on a herd and I sure as hell couldn't, nor could Sophia."

"Where to first?" Sophia asked, interrupting a possible argument.

"Your pick Sophia," Merle offered.

The young girl squared her shoulders, jutting her chin as she stared between the four stores before deciding. "The pharmacy."

* * *

"Merle leave some stuff. What we don't need is dead weight," I called after his retreating form as he disappeared between the aisles.

Thankfully, Sophia was gazing out of the window so she didn't see the lone finger flicked at me.

"Sophia, would you mind coming over here and helping me sort through the packets of pills?"

She turned away from the window and began to follow me up the aisle on the left of the store. "But the bible says stealing's wrong."

 _I can't just say it's not stealing if they're dead or this is America, everything should be free._ "This isn't stealing."

"What is it then?"

"An extreme case of window-shopping if you just take from the window." She didn't look convinced. "Look, sometimes the bible..." _This is Southern America. Choose your words carefully so you don't have a set of bullets for anal beads._ "...doesn't take every situation into consideration. What does the bible say about those in need?"

"Uh... If you're kind to the poor, you lend to the Lord, and he will repay you."

"Well Steve the pharmacist left that sign out front to give permission to take what you  _need_  because it's what God wants him to do. So there you go, we'll just take what we need."

"If you're sure..."

"Sophia if you really don't want to do this, I won't make you. If it would make you feel better you can just keep watch. But don't think for one second I would do something... bad, if you trust me."

With a final nod, Sophia picked up the nearest packet of antibiotics I pointed out and stuffed it into the plastic bag.

* * *

The hardware store had been completely ransacked. The giftshop didn't have much either besides a few pairs of 'novelty' socks with a horse on the ankle and a map of Georgia.

Giving Sophia to take charge of seemed to be a good idea until she decided it was best to take several minutes doing so, leaving us out in the open.

"There's a library," I said when she circled it. "Might as well go there. It's the end of the world, at least with a book I can toss it up between being a better adventure than falling down a cliff and being dragged off into the woods but worse than if I was a Hobbit watching Bilbo leave."

"There's books in the jeep. Library was the last place..." Merle trailed off before whistling at something. "Look at that! Ole Merle just hit the jackpot!"

Without waiting or saying anything, he just beat feet over to the Carriage Bar.

Rolling my eyes, I just shifted my bags and followed after him.

* * *

Merle had tucked himself behind the bar, his lack of a hand not stopping him as he just used his belt buckle to open anything he could.

Sophia picked up one of the discarded bottles left on a dusty table, holding it to the light. "My math teacher used to make ships in these. Mom tried once because Dad used to drink so many..."

"You don't have to drink it. The bottles can make art and the alcohol can be useful-"

**Shlurp**

"-if you're like me."

"A nurse?"

"Ye-"

**SHLURP**

"Hey Merle?" I called over, trying to _discreetly_  tell him not to be a bottle whore in front of the kid whose dad had been an even bigger fu-dge maker.

"Wha'?" Merle managed to force out between gulps of whiskey as he deep-throated the bottle like a girl on prom night would after watching porn.

"Find some vodka if there's any. It's not the best but it's more sterile than just bog water." Dropping my bags onto the nearest chair, keeping my hammer with me still, I turned back to Sophia who was still fiddling with the green bottle. "Sophia, I'm leaving  _you_  in charge. You seem to be the only one with any sense around here."

Hopping the bar and not managing to fall flat on my face and gain even more brain damage, I made my way cautiously to the back.

Nothing came out like a cheap horror jump scare as I scouted a single bathroom, not stinking of shit, and a storage room locked up with chains that would have made Jacob Marley jealous.

Two doors separated the bar from the outside world and I opened the first, a simple screen door, to move closer to the hole I could peer out at the world in.

With the sun not burning as high as it had been when we arrived, it cast a shadow on the world. In the world outside, there stood the jeep matching Merle's description; black, parked in the very dust it was coated in. And yet, what he had failed to mention was that reclined in the passenger seat, knife through his left eye and probably into his seat and what was left of his greasy black mullet, was a man who probably wouldn't gain access to a KKK meeting because of his too-dark-too-be-natural-white-guy-tan-and-too-brown-to-be-from-a-bottle skin.

"Oi, Merle. Come with me for a sec, would you?"

Stumbling through the back, he plonked himself at my side to lean on the inner doorframe. "Wha now?"

"Yeah, quick question who the flying fidget spinners is  _that_  in the front seat? Because he's clearly not one of your buddies based on what's left of his skin and you failed to mention him. At all."

Merle paled considerably which was almost an accomplishment. "Aw shit. I'da thought the geeks woulda dragged him off by now."

"You know him?"

He shrugged noncommittally, shifting the weight of the rifle off of his stump with a hiss like a struck cat.

"And where did you get the gun? You know what, I don't wanna know." Slowly I eased the outer door open, before ordering. "We do this quick and we do this now. Before Sophia comes out."

With a nod, we set out.


	13. Dumpster Fires (Chapter 12)

Yanking the car door open, the thing practically threw itself out in it's desperation to get to us, even as we backed away.

The dumpster, firmly planted against the back of the bar, caught my eye. Within the dumpster, I presumed there would be broken bottles of the booze from the bar so I headed towards it, hammer tight in my fist.

With a wild swing, I send the thing sprawling forwards until it lands against the side of the dumpster and before it can crawl up, I begin to heft it up and into the thing.

Tired, I fell to my knees on the ground. Pain pinched my palms as I knelt forwards, the sick feeling of flesh imprinted on my fingers.

Wet. It was so soggy like the flesh was about to tear off in my-

The ground was wet once again. Staggering, I stood and wiped my chin clean with a cloth from my back pocket and watched Merle approach the dumpster.

Lighter withdrawn from his back pocket, he lit the sick cloth I passed him and tossed it on top of the growling fucker attempting to climb out.

"Fuck, you good?"

"Yeah," I answered weakly. "You?"

" _Fuck..."_ Merle let hiss between his teeth, his arm bent across his torso.

"I'll take that as a no." Grabbing his upper arm in my left firmly, I pre-faced my actions for his possibly dislocated arm with a simple; "Fair warning, you're gonna hate me for this." Twisting his arm up towards me, I feel and hear the click settling back into place.

_Fuck, if word ever gets out this is all a lie how am I going to explain that I only know how to do that because I once dislocated my own elbow and made it worse by ramming it into a wall like Moe on the Simpsons did so I had to google a solution for my neighbour to do?_

"HELP!"

I didn't have time to think about my own lies, caught up in hurrying into the bar.

Stood in the middle of the room was a white guy, skin like curdled milk, as he used the young girl as a human shield. Hair fisted tightly in his grasp, Sophia struggled like a worm on a hook to get away but was stilled by the knife at her throat that was dangerously close to her bobbing throat.

"YOU STAY RIGHT THERE!"

I had to grab the nearby doorframe to still myself from leaping forwards. "Who are you?"

"You can call me Scout, sugartits."

 "Okay, Scout, just hand over the girl and we can talk."

"Ain't gonna happen sweetheart. Now, how's about you drop that weapon and I don't drive mine through her throat or get my friends to shoot you."

"Y/N-" Sophia's plea was cut off with a sharp hiss as the blade grazed her throat, a thin drop of blood leaking out.

"Take it easy! Look! I'm-" I let the hammer drop with a sick squelch from the blood stuck on it.

"Out that door!" He ordered, forcing Sophia forwards. "Any straggler friends of yours are probably dead now."

As if on cue, three gun shots rung out just as I opened the door, not able to see if Merle's corpse was decorating the ground.

Maybe the gunshots had taken away some of my hearing because as Scout let the door close behind him, forcing me to stop, I could barely catch the end of a sentence. "...But if you're so desperate for your daughter, we can come to some sort of an arrangement~"

"Deal. Just let her come to me first." He hesitates to let go of her. "I'm unharmed, what can  _I_ do?"

The guy withdraws the blade from the girl's neck, his hand untangling from her hair, before his body curled slightly into itself as Sophia stomped on his foot before running towards me.

I titled her chin up when she reached me, a hand on her shoulder to calm her down as she shivered. The cut had almost stopped bleeding, the blood a simple jewel on an invisible necklace. Leaning closer as I tucked her hair behind an ear, careful as she whimpered, I whispered, "Sophia, listen to me. I need you to run straight back indoors, okay?"

"Hey! Stop whispering!" The guy steps forwards to intervene but Sophia takes her opportunity to skirt past him and that's when I see the figure lurking in the shadows.

It all happened so quickly.

One moment, Merle laid in wait like a tight spring in the shadows and the next, he had sent Scout flying towards the dumpster.

Merle's ramming didn't send the guy sprawling to his knees but rather sent his back into the metal rod sticking out from the dumpster.

Cockily, Merle stood over the fucker twitching as he bargained, "Nurse, over here, she could help ya... for a price."

Weakly, the guy flailed by the sheer mass of the guy sent Merle to the ground with a lucky hit on the face. "Fuck you and your bitches!"

With a eye roll followed by a harsh shove, I pushed the fucker deeper onto the pole and into the side of the still burning dumpster.

Mostly melted flesh reached out from the portal to hell and grabbed Scout by the throat, rearing it's evil snarling head up as it dragged him up and in, his screams barely heard as the monster ripped most of his body from the pole it had been impaled upon.

"What a cunt," I finally managed.

"Damn right." Groaning, he straightened up from his slumped position sat on the floor, his back cracking as he stood and we ventured inside.

"See, didn't even call the guy's friends a zipperhead or nig-"

I cut him off as I held the door open for him, scooping up the rifle from the floor where it had been dropped. "Well done. You're well on your way to being a halfway decent human being."

* * *

Sophia had finally stopped shaking as I finished cleaning up her neck but she was heavily out of it, not even noticing when I leant back away from her throat.

In the background, Merle must have rolled off of the counter I had helped him up onto or sent something flying as a glass bottle shattered on the floor causing Sophia to jump.

The girl popped her head up from where she had been staring down at her lap, fiddling with the edges of my bag sat between her legs.

"Listen, I've just gotta sort Merle's back out. Why don't you finish off the last of those berries? You must be starving."

She nodded before picking up my bag, hefting it up onto the table she was sat at.

With a final look at the quiet girl, I moved over to Merle and began to strip myself of the flannel shirt I had been wearing, letting it drop onto the floor so I would have my hands free.

In the fabric of my bra, I had pierced a few sewing needles and pins, thread tied around the straps of my bra. Retrieving them whilst avoiding Merle's leering gaze was not the best time of my life.

But he remained sat on the counter, even as I made my way around the back.

Like I would have done with ice by the fridge, I swept the glass away so I could stand without fear of piercing my shoes open.

Merle's vest had been cast aside, dropped like my own flannel shirt had been, but his undershirt, already dark, had become even darker in one particular patch.

As I began to inch the bloody material further up his back, a few white scars peeping out from underneath the dark shirt, I could feel Merle tense like prey about to leap away.

"Stay still!Merle, I will stab you through the thigh if you do not sit  _still_!" One of the glass pieces sat next to where Merle's hand would have been if he had stayed still and I scooped it up, holding it to the side of his neck. "Listen to me, we need to do this and we need to do this fast. Your shots along with the bodies could draw more of those creeps out of the wood-work and I'd rather be safe in that car than waiting out here. So let's do this fast like we would smoke grass." Before he could resist further, I reasoned, "I'll only pull it up enough to tend the wound, okay?"

That seemed to settle him.

Unfortunately, the smell of him didn't settle me. "Fuck me, did you  _bathe_  in whiskey and sweat?"

I leaned back, threading the needle as I gulped down clean air that I would miss, and began to stitch him up to minimal complaint.

I finished quickly, tying the thread off.

"Can I have a pad please?" I called over to Sophia who threw me the box.

"Listen, as much time as I've spent with you two gals-"

I had torn the perforated line on the box and pulled out one of the pads, peeling off the plastic."It'll stick to your shirt and save it from you having to take your shirt off in front of anyone or at least you'll only have to yank it a few inches up." Pressing it cotton-side away from me under the shirt against his skin, I gently slapped his shirt into place.

Without thanks, Merle slid off of the counter and headed out to the car.

* * *

Something was shaking me, forcing me to blink myself awake.

"Wha'?" My mouth tasted like ass and my neck clicked as I rolled it, pushing myself up onto my elbows. It smelt too fresh despite the slight smoke to be in the musty house and the ground I carded my fingers through was definitely too long and green to be anything but grass outside.

"Mr Dixon's teaching me how to make different fires!" She gestured to the odd set up in the ground where a single stream of light smoke blew up into the air.

"It's Merle, girl." The guy sat up on the porch, a slight smile on his lips that almost could have been a wrinkle or a smirk. Even with the smoke so thin, it was hard to see him.

She ignored him in her rush to tell me everything. "-We made a Dakota fire because it's hard to see. It's two holes in the ground and whilst we were digging we found a burrow!"

The previous inhabitants of the burrow were dropped unceremoniously onto my lap. "And you get ta skin 'em."

"What the-"

"Please?" Sophia asked hesitantly, shoulders hunched. "Mr Dixon can't do it because he's hurt so me and him are gonna do the beans we found and I really don't want to go near a knife..."

I sighed, trying to steel myself, even as I nodded. "But I'm going to sing something to distract me, okay?"

Turning to the disgusting task at hand, I began to sing, "Kumbaya my Lord, kumbaya." I split the rabbit from the neck, cringing at the wet slick rolling down my thumb. "Kumbaya my Lord, kumbaya~ Kumbaya my Lord, kumbaya, kumbaya-"

"Don't ya know any of the words besides them?"

"Nope. Now shut up and let me finish unless you want to swap those greens for red."

* * *

70 verses of Kumbaya later, I had finished with the rabbits enough that they had been cooked on a spit next to a small pot where the green beans had cooked and we sat to eat the 'balanced meal' outside on the porch like a horrible, twisted version of Shrek.

With the last fleeting lights of day still bleeding through the trees, we were safe enough to sit outside with the hidden fire and not have to strain our eyes as we huddled around the map.

"Um... We weren't here or here... and we definitely couldn't have been here." I vaguely pointed at points along the tree lines on the map, rabbit mostly devoured in my haste to finally eat something.

Merle snorted, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and then his hand, now vacant of food, on his jeans. "You really have no sense of direction, huh. Give it to ol' Merle." He curled his fingers towards me in a 'give it' motion before moving the few inches between my legs and his in an attempt to snatch it.

I jerked away, the map balanced on my knees threatening to topple off and float away. "Wipe your hand! If you get grease over it, we'll never figure it out."

He spit into his palm and then wiped it once more on his jeans.

My nose crinkled as I gazed down at it. "It'll do."

The words had barely left my lips before he had yanked it away from me.

Keeping the pen for myself, if only to keep my hands busy as I twirled it, I took the last green bean from my simple handkerchief and chewed on it thoughtfully as I gazed down at the map.

Unfortunately, it was useless.

I had no sense of direction, no GPS, no wi-fi guided guided map and when I had attempted to lead earlier that day, I had gotten us so lost on the way that the car almost crashed into a tree before we managed to find a way to squeeze it between the trees so it wouldn't be seen in park but wouldn't be too out of reach to fetch tomorrow.

Merle's hot breath warmed my ear as he leaned over, causing me to swat him away. "Did ya pass any houses?"

"No." I looked over Merle's shoulder at Sophia, cheeks full of meat, to confer.

"Any memorable things on the map?"

Taking the pen and balancing myself on Merle's right shoulder, I lightly circled the area where the Greene Family Farm was along with the Wiltshire Estates and other farmhouse heavy areas. _They could prove to be useful or have cannibals living in them so perhaps best to avoid._

I let the pen dangle between my fingers, it's tip tracing a path down to the crest marking the highway.

"Route 9," Merle read out. "Right before it becomes Dahlonega Highway and there's a farm-"

"That's it! That's the road!" Sophia interrupted, food visible between her teeth as she spoke, poking at the map insistently.

"You sure, kid?"

A simple nod followed by her swallowing down the rest of her food. "I remember playing I Spy with Carl and seeing the sign!"

"Good job! Tell you what, you take the last portion of that rabbit and we'll get you ready for bed."

* * *

Inside, back on the sofa I sat with Sophia, her head laid down ready to sleep with an arm under the pillow as she stared into the back of the couch.

"Y/N?"

"Yes Sophia?"

"Would you braid my hair for me? Momma does it to stop my hair getting tangled..."

"Uh yeah. Sure." Gently I slid the pink alice band from her head, her wavy hair barely being tugged by it bar a few stray tangles.

Feeling for a hair band on my wrist, I began to run my dominant hand through the girls hair which was starting to get greasy after days if not washing much like mine was.

Splitting her hair in half, I began to braid one side followed soon by the other.

"Y/N?" Her voice was muffled from where it was hidden by the pillow.

"Yes, Sophia?"

"I miss my Momma. I miss _home_."

"I know you do, sweetheart. And I promise, as long as you're with me..." How could I promise this girl that I would keep her safe when the truth of the matter, the reality of my failure, reared it's ugly head and caused guilt to flare up within me every time Sophia sucked in a quiet breath, barely a hiss of pain whistling past her teeth.

Finally, I began to tie her hair off. "As long as you're with me, I'll do whatever needs to be done to make sure you find a way home, no matter where that may be."

She didn't respond and I realised why as I gazed down at her curled form, clutching onto the pillow her head was buried into, clinging onto it like a lifeline.

When her breathing finally evened out, I decided to slip out from under her. She let out a small whimper as I softly moved her legs, curling them even tighter against her.

But it was better that I didn't stay when all she could whisper helplessly were pleas for her mother.


	14. Lies and Flies (Chapter 13)

I plopped down on the porch besides Merle, taking his stump into hand as I began to clean it with the remainders of the second to last bottle of water and some salt from the kitchen, tipped into a bowl for Merle to sit with as I sloshed the water about. "It was kind of you to give Sophia a bigger portion but you could have eaten more. 

"Ain't hungry," Merle petulantly grumbled only to be proven a liar by a growl from his stomach.

"Just eat some more of those greens. Fibre will do you good."

"Doctor's orders?" Merle was cut off, a scream ripping through the night, rattling the porch door with the shrillness of the scream.

"I'm sure they'll be fine-"

"HELP! PLEASE! SOMEBODY!"

Passing Merle the bowl, I wiped my hand on my jeans as I slid off of the porch, slowly treading towards the treeline.

"OH GOD! MY WIFE! WHY ARE YOU DOING THAT TO MY WIFE?!"

I surprised myself when I stopped where I did, kneeling down with almost silent movements, grasping the handle of the pot.

With a flick of my wrist, I dumped out the cooking water onto the fire. Turning back to Merle, his stump in the bowl of water cradled between his thighs, I kept his gaze. "I'm not judging you for not running out into the night. I'm not going to either."

"Good, cause I ain't helping wasting my bullets for a couple'a strangers who ain't never cooked me a meal or fellaciated my piece. That's my policy."

I scoffed, making sure to flop down further away from Merle, already missing the heat from his side and the fire. "Listen to your self! You sound like a moron! You were left to  _die_  in those fucking woods and if it hadn't been for Sophia who certainly has and will never do either of those fucking things, and it was just me? Let's just say you're lucky the girl was there."

"Now you listen here-"

"Merle, I promised something to Sophia; that whether I can return her to her mother or not, I'll do the best I can for that girl. And if you're _ever_  a risk to her safety whilst she's in my care, I won't hesitate to put you down like the sick pig that you're acting like. So eat your fucking greens, then start talking before I get hungry for bacon."

* * *

"So to sum up: Phillip went mad after the death of his daughter and when forced into withdrawal from the drugs he had been sharing with you, he killed Top Dog Brian and now he's posing as the guy in charge under a stupid name."

The screaming had stopped by this point but it's absence was worse, proof of my lack of effort to help but what could I have done? Gone charging into the dark after a trap or stumbled into my own crowd of monsters?

Merle remained hunched, his stump only being extended towards me as I re-wrapped it.

Deciding it was best to change the topic, not wanting to be on the end of Merle's possible aggression, I cast my gaze to the map he had been looking over and wobbly outlined the path to the highway we would have to take with the car.

"It'll take the day to get there. If there's nothin' to show for it-"

I cut him off, not willing to listen, "There will be. There has to be. For Sophia."

The silence burned once more, the lingering breeze of night a dull roar compared to the stillness we seemed to be sat in.

Finally, I broke the silence as I asked what I had been wanting to all day, "And what do we do if her m-o-t-h-e-r isn't... you know?"

"What about it?"

"Are we staying together or what?" At his disparaging look, I shrugged, tying off the bandages. "Look, Merle, no offense but if I had a choice, you would  _not_  be my first pick for this mess, okay?"

"Y'ain't mine either."

_Thank you for answering my question._

"I hear Macon's nice this time of year and it's only about an hour down the road according to the map," I mentioned.

"Woodbury's closer."

"Is that where you want to go?"

Merle refused to answer so I simply headed back in doors, curling up in the chair to watch over Sophia as she slept until the sun rose.

* * *

I had passed out at one point, not to the warmth of the sun or even the shrieking of pain but to light poking on my face.

Twitching away from the probing finger attacking my cheek, I squinted at the dark figure of Sophia.

Sophia's face flushed as she ducked her gaze. "I need the bathroom."

"Okay... Let me just go sort it out, follow me up, okay?"

The stairs creaked as they had been the past couple of the days, not giving out even as my weight pressed into the old wood that looked ready enough to crack that I let out a sigh of relief when I reached the top.

Approaching the bathroom, I went in defenseless to the bathroom I had already checked. There was no shower curtain over the almost scale free cast iron bath tub, and the sink was free of any floaters. The bin wasn't turned over, and a roll of toilet paper still sat next to the toilet on the wall.

The one thing that caught my gaze was the closed lid of the toilet. I'd already checked the room and it hadn't stunk of shit so it should be fine.

Flipping the lid of the toilet, I recoiled.

_Nope. It's worse than shit._

Bile rose up my throat only to meet Sophia's worried gaze when I had staggered away.

Struggling, I managed to crack a slight smile as I advised, "Perhaps just hover."

* * *

Back in the real world, I would never have been awake at this time in the morning, early enough to watch the night sky begin to blossom with the warm rose of morning or the calm blue sprouting from the stars to replace their light to make way for the sun. But then again, back in the real world, I wouldn't be in a shack in the woods with a kid upstairs in the toilet hovering over human remains nor sat on the porch watching a racist redneck return from the treeline with a torch and bags I had never seen before.

"Merle?" I stood up, swaying slightly with the my vision blurring. But I recovered quickly, stepping down to meet him and taking one of the backpacks he was lugging with his singular hand. "After you drop off... whatever you're carrying, can you come upstairs with me?"

As I let the bag settle in my arms, he leant closer with a lewd smirk cracking his surly complexion.   "Sure you wanna wake the kid?"

I turned away, talking into the air as I made my way indoors, knowing he was following me as his footsteps were heavier than mine. "Mind out of the gutter. You're injured and I typically don't sleep with racists. Change your ways and get over your injury and you have a slight percentage increase but it's not much from zero." The door shook in it's frame as Merle kicked it into place. "Upstairs might have stuff we can take when we leave in a few hours and I have no skill picking a lock."

I made my way back up the stairs, the mostly empty pack weighing on me like the guilt of knowing where it came from did.

Dropping the backpack on the floor, I opened it, scanning over the items inside (some water, a set of batteries for the torch Merle had tied the long cord of around his neck, and a small first aid kit) as I queried, "Any idea how to get this door open?""

"Sure."

**BANG**

Sophia let out a squeak from the bathroom.

_Welp. So much for us not attracting the undead. Thank fuck this is the last day we're going to spend here._

I shot a glare at Merle's retreating back before I dragged the backpack into the room.

The old room was as musty as I had believed it to be, as musty as the old lady who must have slept here should have been. Flowery bed covers were covered in layers of dust, as most of the room except the floor where it had been swept aside by Merle's violent kick into the door. The only features besides the bed were a set of drawers, a small chest at the base of the bed, and a dress dummy like the ones in the other room but this one was dressed in a simple night old-fashioned night gown, stained yellow as if by smoke.

Kneeling on the ground before the drawers, I managed to dig out mostly fine dresses, clean undergarments, and even socks. I left the drawers in favour of the chest, which I had left the bag by.

Once the top was heaved up and open, the wooden interior was marred with the heavy fabric of jeans. Patting the top of the jeans, the bumps I felt underneath were unnatural to be any form of clothing.

Flopping the jeans to bend them in half, the treasures revealed to me were multiple packets of medications. Boxes of Flunitrazepam sat side by side with other pain killers, tubes of cryotherapy gel, and even plain old Sudocrem. Wedged between packets were shirts, wrapped around even more packets of medication.

"Damn, all bent over for me?"

I banged my head into the lid of the chest as I hurried to shove the jeans back into place. "Merle, kindly fuck off."

"Ya find anythin'?"

"No." _I said that too quickly. Don't panic._ "Just some men's clothes. I'll bring them down so you can change whilst I get Sophia to help me pull out the other clothes up here."

I didn't look at him, smoothing the jeans over the pills with the blue ice flashing before my eyes.

This could go very badly.

* * *

In the car, I kept my gaze despite the fear of the bag, now heavy with as many of the pills as I could carry, I had shoved in some of the dresses and dress making supplies from upstairs in until I could fit no more in the bag that threatened to burst open from the items I had shoved inside. It lay in the backseat underneath Sophia's head as she laid curled up, strapped in carefully as I hadn't trusted myself amongst the trees.

I hadn't trusted Merle either despite his tiny bitch fit before he resigned himself to flicking through a bible that must have been taken with the rest of the books.

A pale hand crawled from behind the book towards the silent radio.

"Don't," I warned. "Just... Just curl up against the window and go to sleep if you're bored. You probably spent long enough sprawled out on the floor of a junkies apartment or their boot to not be able to sleep in a slow moving vehicle."

"Yeah. This white kid, used to go around calling everyone bitch, once threw me in his trunk 'cause I raised a lil' hell when supply wasn't being met... ain't thought of him since before all this shit went down."

"Do you reckon he survived?" I pulled the car through the treeline, the highway in sight.

"Nah. Little shit probably mouthed off and got his throat ripped out like whoever lived in that shithole of a shack."

"How'd you figure?"

"Easy. The bathtub ain't full and there ain't nothing lying at the bottom. First thing I did at the start was fill everything I could with water for drinkin'." I had finally found a spot on the edge of the highway, the car coming to a stop with a slight jolt, and I turned to Merle. Something on my face must have caught his attention as he let out an intelligent; "Wha?"

"For a redneck, you're a genius." The back of my neck felt sweltering but a slight breeze had managed to trickle in from behind me, probably an open window. I turned to Sophia to tell her to wind the window up, maybe wake her.

But she had disappeared.

Ripping my seat-belt off, I leapt out of the car, not even turning to look at Merle, even as he called after me.

"Mama?!" I heard her cry out, rushing forwards to the young girl who had begun to meander between vehicles, fruitlessly searching in her desperation that caused her voice to crack as she wailed. "MA!"

"Sophia!" I caught her in my arms, pulling to my chest as we collapsed together.

"I want my mom!"

"I know, I know..." My eyes finally caught on the nearby car with 'WAIT HERE SOPHIA' on the windscreen. "We'll wait and see if she turns up, okay?"

"Ain't gonna-"

 _Please_ , I mouthed at him in desperation, clutching the sobbing girl closer to me.

"Okay, we'll wait."

* * *

We waited hours, occasionally moving a few yards to siphon some gas from the nearby cars for our own, leaving a few books in spare cars when we took supplies like two bottles of water and a case of leather bondage gear, if only because it could help with a prosthetic for Merle if we ever found anyone to make one.

But waiting at the car was taking too long. Merle hadn't returned.

A shout of pain alerted me as to why.

Jumping off of the hood of our car that I had been sat on, I called back to Sophia, sat in the backseat with tear-stained cheeks and her head only popping out from the top of her book, as I began to sprint in the direction of the voice. "You stay right there!"

_Fuck me. All this running is going to kill me before I even get a chance at a zombie._

Darting through the cars, careful not to cut myself on any edges like someone must have judging by the blood squirted at a car I scrambled over, the groans turning into shouts and blasphemes.

I didn't think, seeing the ghost of the man I had already killed today, hunched over Merle's body. Swiping up a plank of wood from somewhere, I crept forth until I towered over both men.

Swinging wildly, I managed to clock the guy round the back of the head.

Swinging again, a spray burst upwards from his head.

Again, the head caved in.

Again-

A groan caught my attention and I numbly dropped the plank of wood, my hands shaking as I mechanically moved over to Merle, curled up on the ground.

Turning him over with a grunt from both of us at the movement of his weight, I scanned his body delicately, noticing the smell before the stain at his hip. I began to pull the material away, the sick squelch making my skin crawl but stopped when my eyes caught on Merle's face.

It had been burst with ink; blue and black stains blemishing his ghastly pale skin, slips of red a rip in his lips. His eyes,  encircled in the darkened skin, bore into mine, so blue they outshone the sky. It was as if the oceans themselves had filled his eyes- "Girl, you gone native..."

With that, he went limp.

"Merle! Merle!" I struck him on the face, panicking. "Dumbass, wake the fuck up!"

A groan echoed but it wasn't from Merle.

Scrambling to stand, I dragged Merle up with me as slow as it was. Too slow for me. With an arm swung around my shoulders, my left arm around his back, I began to limp with him back to the car.

Blood rushing too quickly through my veins, it felt like it was fighting to escape into the maws of the beasts clambering their way towards us, the body of the attacker a simple roadblock in the way of their talons and teeth.

I could feel him sagging against my side, dead weight I was dragging through the labyrinth of vehicles to get back to Sophia.

The car came into view, the growls getting louder as my side got soaked from Merle pressed against me.

"OPEN THE DOOR!"

Sophia had barely got the door open before I was shoving Merle up and in.

The bag was within reach, still in the place Sophia had used it as a pillow, and the medication remained at the top. Taking out a blister packet of some painkillers, I pressed them to Merle's lips as he kept his mouth closed, the bleeding lip trembling with shallow breaths. "For fuck's sake, listen to me! Swallow!"

Surprise, surprise, he didn't listen.

"Pinch his nose until he opens his mouth," I ordered Sophia.

When he finally gasped for breath, still not fully conscious, I struck. Taking the pills into my fingers, pushing them into the back of his throat despite his tongue battling against my hand for dominance.

_I can safely say, a tongue battling for dominance isn't sexy. It feels like limp pepperami swishing-_

"Y/N, he's bleeding a lot."

"We don't have time for this!"

More of those things were marching towards us, furious with hunger.

"Sophia, listen to me. I know this is bad but I need to be able to get us out of here. Just keep pressing this-" I shucked off my flannel that seriously needed washing. "-onto the wound and press  _hard_."

Scrambling forwards into the front seat, brimming with nervous energy, I adjusted the mirror before reversing into the nearest walking corpse.

My eyes caught on the outlined place on the map and I knew where we had to go.


End file.
